Disclaimer: I own nothing from either BTVS or Supernatural. I am just playing with the characters and promise to put them back where I found them and in one piece. Mostly.
Author's note and spoiler warning: This story picks up during the current season premiere of Supernatural and during the Glory situation on BTVS.
She hit the ground with a thud. It racked her skull and echoed off the walls of the motel room, startling the current occupants enough to halt the battle taking place. The wormhole spinning out of control in the ceiling didn't do a bad job of that either.
Dean used the opportunity to shove his knife into the demon he was wrestling. Meg glared at him from across the room, she was not happy and voiced her opinion with a growl as she exited her host. Then the room was silent. Wormhole gone. Demons gone. Well, two dead and one MIA but they would take what they could get.
Sam looked warily at the girl who appeared out of thin air. Glanced at Dean who just shrugged.
"What? you've never seen a naked girl fall from the ceiling before?"
Sam glared before covering her with his jacket. "Apparently I missed that particular Vegas trip."
"Ah, those were the days..." Dean smirked but his casual attitude flew out the window as the girl in question shot a leg out and kicked him clear across the room. She scrambled to her feet, backing against the wall and clutching the jacket around her.
Sam stood stock still, his hands out in front of him in a non threatening gesture. Dean on the other hand, was cursing a blue streak and rubbing his head from his spot across the room.
"What the hell was that for?!"
"Dean! you're not helping!" Sam watched as she began running her hands along her legs, up her torso, through her hair and finally stopping to count her fingers. She looked up, the expression of uncertainty vanishing to reveal a jaded sort of acceptance.
"Unless heaven comes complete with bad wallpaper, I'm gonna take a wild guess and say I'm not dead."
The coffee was bad, but she wasn't picky. The towels were scratchy but the shower beforehand made it worth it. She curled up on the bed, clad in boxers and an old T-shirt, clutching the travel mug as hard as she dared. Her failed attempt at calling Giles left her rattled and in desperate need of caffeine.
"I told you already. I know what you know at this point. Wormhole. Crash! Nakedness. The end. That about sums up what happened."
"You left out the part where my face hit the wall". Dean was not amused and he paced the room as he spoke, attempting to release some of his pent up energy. It didn't help. "You evil? Because if you are you better just come out with it right now and we'll get this over with before the cleaning lady comes back."
Sam, having heard variations of this tirade before veered off to a duffel bag on the other side of the room and came back holding a vile, the contains of which ended up splashed across Buffy's face in one swift motion.
She startled, blinked and began rubbing the water out of her eyes. "I'm pretty sure the shower got me clean, but if you'd like me to bathe in holy water just to be on the safe side it's only polite to ask first."
"Sorry, we have to be sure." Sam produced a washcloth for her and she gave him a small smile.
"It's ok, I know the drill. So what kinda nasties you have here? I'm guessing vamps because of the sudden downpour."
"It's a little more serious than a few vamp nests, sweetheart." Dean sat across from her on the other bed, his elbows on his knees, eyes staring straight through her as he spoke.
"It's the end of the world."
Buffy sighed, throwing her hands up in the air. "Again!?"
Buffy had just finished explaining her plan to them. It was a good plan. One that she had taken a whole three and a half minutes to come up with and one she was certain would work.
Dean said nothing. Sam nodded but quickly stopped when he saw that Dean was not also in agreement. "Dude, it makes sense. She helps us, we help her. It's not like we couldn't use an extra pair of hands considering the situation."
"Sure, it's rational as hell, but Ruby was also as rational as they come and we both know what happened there. I'm not willing to take another chance this time around, no offense, sweetheart."
Buffy shrugged. "None taken."
"Dean, she's not a demon. This is different. Plus, we have Cas now. He'll have some sort of cryptic explanation about all this."
"Well she sure as hell ain't human based on what she claims she can do." He paused to snicker. "Though the name alone gives me plenty of doubts on that front."
Buffy, having listened to this exchange for long enough took a lull in the conversation as her cue. "She's also sitting right here and doesn't appreciate it when people make her talk about herself in the third person. And hey! Buffy is a perfectly reasonable name thank you very much."
She scowled, then realization dawned. She understood the distrust, would have felt it herself if the tables were turned.
"Here's the thing. I've been there, done that, with the apocalypse. Have plenty of T-shirts' to prove it. It's no accident that I landed in that motel room. It can't be."
Dean shook his head, ran a hand through his hair and made a decision.
"You make one wrong move and I will dust that pretty little ass of yours faster than a rabbit on speed."
Buffy resisted the urge to giggle. Both at the mental image he presented her with and his assumption that he could in fact kick her ass. She held up two fingers.
"Girl Scouts' honor."
"Fine, but we're gonna have to get you some clothes. You can't run around fighting evil in Sam's frog underwear."