Disclaimer - I don't own anything, everybody you have heard (which is everyone)of before belongs to someone else.
This is set after my last couple of stories - hope it's okay, had requests for this to be done, just sorry it has taken so long.
Hope you review it - only way I'll know if I should continue as this is still a bit of a Work in Progress so the rating may change as it goes on.
You don't really have to read the last two but if you haven't, here are the major points - Winchesters, Buffy and Dawn are related, Dawn is in college in the UK, and oh yeah, Robin is dead. (sorry if you like him.)
The title comes from the song Don't Mess with a Missionary man - on an Eurythmics tant at the moment
Thanks to Twinkiecat for betaing this for me - hope it is less confusing now.
“Hi ‘D’, what are you doing answering the phone girl? Don’t you actually have to be in the same country your school is in to go to college?”
The room was dark and she could hear the water running, someone singing in the bathroom.
“Yeah I know this ain’t my cell. Mine’s dead, threw it at something. No it wasn’t Spike; and when did you guys get caller id?”
She thought she heard something for a second, the light under the door to the corridor was disturbed, someone had just walked by. She wanted off the line quick, to get out of the room. She wasn’t really in the mood to deal with its legitimate occupants.
“D, what are going on about? No don’t get B; I don’t have the time for the lecture. No, I don’t know who this thing belongs to. Look, I gotta be quiet, the guy’s in the shower. No, I haven’t done… D, is that your opinion of me. Look I need…D listen…”
She held the phone away from her ear. Great, D thought she’d just dragged some poor sap out of a bar just for his phone. She’d done a lot of guys in her time but even at her worst, she’d just have taken the cell off him.
She’d lost her phone as well as a couple of other bits and pieces in a cemetery in the last county, dealing with something that hadn’t take much of her time. She had heard this guy talking to some other guy about a Xander in Cleveland who did bad pirate impressions in a bar that she had passed through. Not too many of them around she’d thought, and at least this way, meant that she wouldn’t have to try and remember the name of what ever they had called the Cleveland Slayer house this week.
Xander was never good at sticking at things, so why did ‘G’ leave him to name the place? They had gone through various incarnations of Summers school for girls, various half way houses, Andrew’s suggestion for Foundation for Ladies And Girls (FLAG), just so they could have a Knight Rider reference …blah, blah, blah; though the best one so far was Willow’s idea of ‘The LaVelle Institute for the betterment of Young Women’. However, that had been vetoed because it didn’t have a snappy initial thing going on.
Every time, she turned up at the place, he was toying with a name change. Not that it was any skin of her nose what they called the place, she knew what they place was for, but it did kind of make it hard when you tried to call the operator for the number. So finding this guy was heaven sent, in a way.
Unfortunately for her, the guy, who seemed a little too full of it, and his taller friend had disappeared before she had had that chance to ‘borrow’ the cell from him.
“D look, you are going to… hold that thought would you,” she said.
The door open and the other one came in, he was carrying a couple of bags of burgers and a couple of sodas. She was polite, she let him put them down before she flipped him on his back, he let out a quiet oomph as she sat on him. She put a hand over his mouth to keep him quiet.
“D, you still there?” she asked, “Good. Sorry about that just had to keep the locals quiet. Yep, on my own some Blue had some legal matters that just couldn’t wait. Yeah he went with, meeting up. Give us a sec.”
She put her free hand over the mouthpiece of the cell, hoping D wouldn’t hear this, as she looked down at the guy she was squeezing between her thighs.
“Hey Stretch, you enjoying the view? Good for you. Eyes up!” His eyes now focused upwards, towards her face, she smiled at him, “Good Boy, I let you up in a couple, soon as I’m done here.”
D was getting agitated, now screaming through the phone, “D?” she asked, “I hear that vein in your head poppin’ out. You know that ain’t good.”
The line went quiet. Not exactly a good sign, she could picture D starting to hyperventilate on the other end of the line.
“D, you still there?... Can I get back to you, like when you’ve taken a valium or something? Wait, what do you mean? Yeah, that sounds like the guy, and yes, he’s in the bathroom. Is the other one tall and shaggy looking? Yeah, I’ve seen him too. Well, right now? D, promise not to get the way you get - I’m kinda sitting on him. D? D? D - I’m not talking to you when you’re channeling Red.”
She flicked off the phone and looked down, “Stretch, What I already tell you?”
His eyes flicked upwards again.
She smiled, at him as he started to struggle a little harder, like it would do much good, “Now Stretch, promise not to scream if I move my hand?”
He nodded she lifted her hand, “What do you want?” Sam asked.
She grinned at him, “Just needed to place a call.”
The bathroom door opened, causing her to turn her head to see what had caused the disturbance.
The guy from the bar stood in the doorway; hair all messed up, skin dripping wet with only a towel round his waist. The light from the bathroom framed him real nice; it also seemed to bring out the shine of the barrel of the 9mm he was holding.
She bit her bottom lip at the sight just as the motel room door opened and two older men stood there, “Boys, you ready?”
John and Bobby just looked at the scene; Dean was in a towel, training a gun on a girl in leather pants, a tight low-cut red top and denim jacket who was straddling Sam’s chest as he was lying on the floor.
“What the hell?” Bobby asked. John just ran his hand through his hair. He wasn’t going to ask.
The dark haired girl, with the bright red lips looked down, “Sam?” she asked, Sam nodded, still stunned, turned her head to the bathroom, “Dean?”
Dean didn’t say a word, lowering the gun slightly.
She smiled and then threw the phone at him, Dean scrambled to catch it, barely making it while holding onto his dignity.
Good hand eye co-ordination she thought, she pouted, “Shame!” she muttered.
She stood up, turning her attention to the two late arrivals, “So, if this is Sam and Dean which one of you two is Johnny?”
“What?” John asked as she went over to pick up her bag, as well as one of the sodas Sam had brought in.
She pointed at him, “Guess, we got a winner then.”
She went over to the door to make her way out the room, squeezing past the older men, she turned to Dean, “Towel boy, tell D I’m at most a couple days behind and I need the latest 411, usual way should be okay. Meeting up with the other two later, but I’m going with or without.”
The phone, as if on cue, rang in Dean’s hand.
She eyed up John nodding, looked back at the other two in the room for before turning her attention back to the older man, she sucked some air through her teeth, “Not bad, Not bad at all.”
She turned her head towards Dean, “By the way if they got any idea how far behind me Riley is, with his white bread brigade, that would be make my day.”
She turned her attention back towards John; she looked him up and down again, raising an eyebrow, “Well, Joyce always did have taste.”
She strolled down the corridor leaving the four stunned men to wonder what had hit them.
Sam made his way over to the table, noting that something was missing, “She took my laptop!”
Bobby and John watched her walk away as Dean got off the phone.
“Bye Dawn. Yeah, we’ll be careful.” He said.
John and Bobby just looked over at Dean, confused as hell.
Dean looked at dumbstruck group, “That was Dawn on the phone.”
“Got that,” John said.
Dean pointed towards the door, at the path their interloper had taken, “That was Faith.”