Chapter Four -It's Always "Just" With You
The next morning, Buffy did her best to annoy the hell out of the older Winchester brother. With her parents spending the day with a business client, Buffy had the whole house to herself. Sam was up early, reading another book while Dean was sleeping the morning away. Buffy blasted the radio in her room and made sure to slam all the doors she could. When she went downstairs, she heard Dean grumbling from the living room. She opened the fridge, took out the blender and dunked a bunch of fruit and juice in it before popping the lid on. She ran the blender, grinding the ice extra long. She got a glass out of the cupboard and slammed it on the counter. She tried to pour her smoothie loudly and huffed when it only made a mild plopping noise.
Buffy eyed the fresh pot of coffee her mother had made for the boys. She removed the stainless steel carafe and dumped the black liquid in the sink. She pilfered through the fridge searching for something. She settled on a bottle of barbecue marinade and hot sauce. She mixed the two liquids together, pouring more of the hot sauce in with a little water and put the carafe back on the hot plate. She scraped the legs of a kitchen chair along the floor before taking a seat. She flipped through the fashion section of the newspaper when Dean finally decided to grace her with his presence. Sam strode in, still reading a book.
No words passed between the three. Dean found a coffee mug and grabbed the carafe. He poured a cup and leaned against the kitchen counter as Sam dug into the basket of muffins on the table. He sat down and browsed through the newspaper sections. Dean sipped from the mug, grimaced, then went to the sink and spit into it. He rinsed out his burning mouth out with cold water.
“What was that crap?”
He heard muffled snickers erupting from the kitchen table.
“Oh, funny Summers. Maybe I should have let Gap Boy humiliate you.”
Buffy stopped snickering and whipped around.
“What do you mean?”
“I know you thought it was all chocolate and daisies with that boy but he was only at that party to see if you lived up to your reputation.”
Buffy frowned, “What reputation?”
“That you’ll kiss any boy that notices you.”
“That’s so not true.”
“According to your friend Kristy it is.”
“What? She should talk, she let the whole basketball team touch her boobs the day they grew in. She’s always bragging about how she’s a size double D.”
Sam choked on his orange juice, “Um, I’m gonna go watch tv.”
Sam darted out of the kitchen.
“Whatever,” Dean grumbled as he opened the fridge.
“When are you guys leaving?”
“Soon I hope.”
“Good, because you’re nothing but thorn in my side.”
Three years later.
Dean pulled the Impala up behind his dad’s truck when they reached the Summers’ house. Sam stretched his long legs out of the truck, his eyes glued to a paperback book. Dean caught up to his father on the porch as they waited for someone to answer the door.
Joyce smiled warmly at all three Winchester men, examining each one of them. She widened the door as the three stepped into the familiar foyer. Sam plopped down on the couch and chuckled, thumbing the page of his book. Dean collapsed in the arm chair by the television and leaned his weary head back. He glanced into the kitchen. His dad and Joyce were smiling and laughing.
Dean finally began to realize why his dad had been so intent to visit the Summers’ house every couple of years when they passed through town. Dad always left in a better mood after seeing Joyce, rejuvenated by her caring nature and her deep seated connection to their mother.
The front door sprung open and closed as Buffy waltzed in, a smile plastered on her face. She was in her cheerleading uniform, chewing on bubble gum. Her hair was longer and blonder than the last time he’d seen her.
“Barbie joined the pep squad, way to stand out.”
Buffy threw a pom-pom at his head as she took a seat next to Sam. The younger Winchester gave a wave without tearing his eyes away from his book. Buffy scanned the title: Scientific Theories and Myths. Sam burst out laughing.
“Is that for school?”
“Huh? No, just some light reading.”
Buffy eyed Dean, “Seriously?”
Dean nodded, “Unfortunately.”
“How long are you here for?”
“Just the night. Where’s Hank?”
Buffy scowled at the mention of her father, “Working late, as usual. What’s new with you guys?”
Dean shrugged, “Traveling and working.”
“And flirting,” Buffy added.
Dean chuckled, “Yeah well, I’m allowed to have a little fun.”
That familiar pout tugged at her face.
“Why? Because you’re a boy? As I recall, you put quite a cramp in my love life awhile ago.”
Dean rolled his eyes.
“God are you still dwelling on that? If I hadn’t been there you’d probably be on your fifth kid living out of a trailer in some Podunk town cashing welfare checks. I did you a favor, say thank you.”
“Oh, I wanted to say something else that ends in you.”
“Whatever Summers, do what you want.”
Joyce called everyone to the table for dinner.
“Everything is delicious Joyce,” John commended. “You really shouldn’t have gone to all this trouble.”
“It was no trouble at all. It was actually nice to be able to cook a dinner that didn’t go cold.”
The phone in the living room rang. Buffy perked up with excitement as she pushed her chair back.
“Not now dear.”
“But mom, that’s Jenny, I haven’t talked to her since school let out.”
“We have guests. You can speak with her tomorrow.”
“But mom, it could be important.”
“Buffy,” her mother said sternly.
Buffy sighed as she sat back down.
“Finish your dinner honey.”
“I’m not hungry anymore,” she grumbled.
“Then you can take the dirty dishes to the kitchen.”
Buffy blew out a breath before shoving her chair out. She picked up her plate and reluctantly gathered the empty ones around the table before disappearing into the kitchen.
“I apologize for her behavior.”
“Don’t be. I’m sure it’s not easy raising a teenage daughter. I truly have no idea.”
After dessert was served, Buffy was still in a bad mood. Joyce and John reconvened in the kitchen to talk.
“Buffy, why don’t you watch a movie with the boys?” Joyce asked from the kitchen.
Buffy folded her arms over her chest.
“Great, first I have to pick up after them and now I’m supposed to entertain them?” she muttered under her breath.
“What did you say honey?”
“I said, okay.”
Buffy flipped the television on and put the remote on the coffee table.
“Here, watch something. I’m taking a shower."
Buffy hopped up the stairs as Dean started clicking through the channels. Joyce brought out a plate of cookies. Dean looked over the batch and found the “special one” on the platter.
“Dude, you did not just take Buffy’s cookie again.”
Dean answered Sam by shoving the cookie in his mouth.
“Dude, that’s so not cool.”
“Do I look like I care?”
Sam rolled his eyes, “No wonder she hates your guts.”
Hours later, John and Joyce were still deep in discussion. Buffy never came back down stairs leaving Sam and Dean to entertain themselves. Dean tapped on the channel up button of the remote repeatedly until Sam threw up his hands in aggravation.
“Dude, will you just pick something?! You got ADHD?”
“There’s nothing good on.”
Joyce popped her head into the living room and frowned. She went to the foot of the stairs.
“Buffy? Will you come down here and be a good host?”
“I’m doing my homework.”
Joyce strained her ears, “Are you talking to Jenny?”
Joyce sighed, “Buffy Anne Summers, you get down here now.”
A shuffling of steps could be heard upstairs before Buffy charged down the stairs. She had changed into a pair of snug green sweats emblazoned with the Hemery High logo and a short sleeve cotton crop top which exposed her midriff.
“I was going to come down in a minute.”
Joyce returned to the kitchen. Buffy drew out a frustrated breath as she entered the living room. She eyed Sam on the couch.
“What are you guys watching?”
“2001,” Sam answered.
“Two thousand and one what?”
Sam looked at her and blinked. Dean doubled over laughing his ass off.
“It’s just 2001," Sam replied.
Buffy noticed the plate of cookies on the coffee table.
“Mom didn’t make me my special one.”
“She did,” Dean said.
Buffy shot daggers at Dean with her narrowed eyes. She curled her legs under her and focused on Sam.
“So Sam, are you dating anyone?”
Sam kept his eyes on the movie, “No, kind of hard with all the moving around and stuff.”
“Oh, so you’ve never had a girlfriend?”
Dean saw his brother’s cheeks flush a beet red.
“No,” he said quietly.
Buffy scooted closer to Sam, putting a hand on his leg. Dean rolled his eyes at the familiar antics.
“Do you two want to be alone? Should I go empty the closet and fetch your mom’s lipstick?” Dean retorted.
Buffy glared at Dean, “I’m just making conversation.”
“Yeah, it’s always just with you – just playing, just kissing,” he sneered.
“What’s your problem?”
“Oh I don’t have a problem with you being a tease but I may not always be around to bail you out.”
“You’re a jerk!”
Buffy bolted to her feet and ran upstairs to her room. Dean chuckled until he saw his dad standing in the doorway of the kitchen.
“Dean, go apologize for your behavior.”
“My behavior? I wasn’t the one salivating on the couch.”
“Dean, this is not a request.”
Dean sighed, “Yes, sir.”