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Mr. & Mrs. Winchester

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This story is No. 1 in the series "Mr. and Mrs. Winchester". You may wish to read the series introduction first.

Summary: Love... marriage... secret identities... What could go wrong? *Response to Challenge 3541*

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Supernatural > Buffy-Centered > Pairing: Dean Winchester(Past Donor)akatFR151759,2713134048,6168 Oct 0915 Apr 12No

Once Upon a Time in Cincinnati

A/N: I was blown away by the response to the first chapter! Thank you so much! Giddy on this review-high, I made this chapter longer than I intended. I hope you like it!

A/N2: I haven’t quite worked out the timelines yet, so please bear with me! This fic obviously takes place after both shows, but it’s a little tricky with Supernatural since the show isn’t over yet. For now, let’s just say that Season 5 ends happily ever after around the same time as Season 7 of Buffy, and Dean and Sam continue their Hunter-lifestyle. ;)


Three years ago…

Dean lazily stretched out on the grass. It was a quiet autumn night; the only sounds that could be heard were the rustle of leaves on the wind and the muffled noises from the street.

“Don’t you love easy jobs like this? A simple bone-burning of Daniel the Friendless Ghost here and we save the day?” he said, staring up at the starry sky.

Sam gave a grunt of annoyance as he lifted another shovelful of dirt out of the grave. “How would you know, Dean? You haven’t lifted a finger since we got here.”

Dean was about to remind his whiny bitch of a brother exactly why only Sam was digging when he heard the shovel hit something solid. Within a few minutes’ time, Sam had the top of the coffin dug out.

Dean got to his feet as Sam climbed out of the hole.

“Dude, I’m not the one who lost the other shovel,” Dean smirked.

“Only because it was between saving the shovel or your ass,” Sam shot back.

“And my ass thanks you,” Dean replied as he pulled out a small can of gasoline out of their bag and poured it on the coffin. “Anyway, quit complaining. One of us had to be on lookout.”

Sam lit a book of matches and tossed it into the hole, instantly setting the coffin ablaze. “We’re in a cemetery in the middle of a Tuesday night,” he said exasperatedly. “We’d hear someone coming a mile away.”

Because Sam just had to jinx it, Dean suddenly heard something, a sort of banging sound. He and Sam froze as they listened for more sounds – nothing. They both relaxed and began gathering up their stuff when they heard it -- the unmistakable sound of footsteps, along with the buzz of a police radio.

A cop. He must’ve heard them, because he was walking quickly toward them – too quickly.

The brothers exchanged glances. They were in one of Cinci’s smaller, older cemeteries, so there was no way they could make it back to the car without crossing the cop’s path.

Dean immediately became all business. “Get the rest of our shit and go. Then take the car straight back to the motel,” he ordered. He pulled out his gun and handed it to Sam, who took it reluctantly. A second later he tossed him his jacket, too. “I’ll give you time to get out and meet you at the motel when I can.”

Sam frowned at his brother. “This whole protective thing is cute, but don’t you think it’s a little old?”

Dean looked pointedly at his brother’s dirt-stained clothes. “You’re the one who looks like you got down and dirty in the cemetery. I’m just a guy out for a stroll,” he reasoned. “Besides, I’m not protecting you. We can’t let the cops find the Impala and all our stuff inside.”

Though he obviously wasn’t happy with the plan, Sam saw the logic in Dean’s argument. He quickly gathered the shovel, flashlights, and can of gasoline into the bag and hoisted it on his shoulder. Before he left, he looked at his brother.

“Be careful, Dean,” he said. “Don’t take any stupid risks.”

“I’ll be like a virgin on her wedding night,” Dean promised. Not waiting for Sam’s response, he took off, making as much noise as possible.

“Stop! Police!”

Dean heard the cop chasing after him. He made sure to stay far enough ahead so the cop couldn’t get a good look at him. Just his damned luck, though, the cop must’ve been a freakin’ marathon runner, because he stayed right on his trail. Dean was starting to get tired, but he was going to make sure he gave Sam enough time to get away.

He made a final loop toward the back of the cemetery before making a final sprint to the front gate. He quickly jumped over it and then listened. The footsteps had stopped. Dean straightened up and grinned.

As he began walking down the street back to the motel, he passed by a bar. Feeling like luck was on his side, he pulled out his cell and dialed. Sam picked up almost immediately.

“Dean, are you okay?” he asked, obviously relieved to hear his brother’s voice.

“Hey, Sammy,” he said. “Everything’s fine. Cop’s gone. You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” Sam replied. “Are you heading back to the motel then? Where should I pick you up?”

Dean paused. “You shouldn’t,” he said with a grin. “It just so happens that there’s a bar right around the corner from the cemetery.”

Sam laughed in disbelief. “Dean, seriously? You were running away from the cops 10 minutes ago.”

“Which I deserve a medal for – a young, hot medal who can’t keep her hands off of me,” Dean said, grinning into the phone. “Don’t wait up.”


Buffy sighed happily. She had the night to herself and she was loving every second of it, even if she was in a cemetery in Cincinnati on a mission.

Ever since they relocated to Cleveland after the collapse of Sunnydale, she spent all of her time training the new slayers. She didn’t even patrol on her own anymore. Nope, it considered valuable field experience where she ended up doing more explaining than staking.

And she was about to lose it.

Buffy loved her girls, she really did – but when one of the girls had teasingly referred to her as their mom? Well, she had been two seconds away from going all Hellmouthy on the girls.

Seriously, she was totally cool with big sister. She Who Is in Charge? Even better. But mom? Ugh. It was right up there with being called ma’am.

That’s why she had jumped at the chance to go on a retrieval mission for a relic. It was a simple break n’ take, one that anyone could’ve done, but she had volunteered first and, more importantly, loudest.

She had a feeling Giles understood why she wanted to go. Why else would he encourage her to make it an overnight trip, let alone approving funds for a nice hotel? So here she was, looking for some secondary relic in Cincinnati.

And if she happened to get the job done quickly? She was totally taking the rest of the night off.

Not wanting to waste a single moment, she made a beeline for the mausoleums, which were way in the back along the edge of trees.

As she made her way there, she thought she heard some muffled sounds in the other corner of the cemetery. Thankfully, she was reading zero on the demonic vibe, so she just continued on her way.

It was probably just some kids up to some wacky hijinks, and she so didn’t care.

Within minutes, she found the mausoleum she was looking for. It wasn’t too difficult – it was the dark, decrepit, and creepy one with mysterious symbols carved into it.

Buffy rolled her eyes. Seriously, if she ever needed to hide something, it would be in a well-kept, well-lit place with bright murals of children on the walls.

She stepped up to the door and studied the lock. It was heavier than she anticipated, but after a few well-placed kicks, it soon broke and fell onto the stone steps with a loud clank.

Buffy pulled the heavy doors open and stepped inside. She immediately began coughing as a musty smell assaulted her.

“Remind me why I didn’t just go to a spa for a little R&R?” Buffy muttered under her breath.

She wasn’t complaining, though; not really. A little B&E, complete with funky smells and decaying bones, was still a welcome change from hormonal teenage girls.

Moving the heavy slab of stone covering the tomb aside, Buffy peered inside. Yep, one dead guy. Thankfully she didn’t need a piece of him, even if he was nothing but bones.

Instead she searched the area around him, her eyes lighting up when she found what she was looking for in his hand. Ooh, and it was pocket-sized. This was almost too easy. She reached inside the tomb and pulled the medallion thingy out of the skeleton’s hand.

She never would’ve guessed that it was important. It actually looked like a piece of costume jewelry. Hell, Buffy could probably wear it if she wanted to. She laughed, imagining Giles’ face if she strolled into headquarters, fully relic-accessorized.

Suddenly, Buffy heard a commotion outside. She put the relic in her pocket as she hurried out of the mausoleum, stake at the ready. She stopped dead in her tracks, however, when she saw the beam of light sweeping the area around her.

No self-respecting demon or vamp would ever use a flashlight, which meant that it had to be a human.

Buffy ducked behind the closest mausoleum and peered around the corner, thinking that maybe it was the people she heard earlier.

Her eyes widened when she finally caught a glimpse of the person in question.

A cop? Patrolling the cemetery? She never thought she’d miss the days of Sunnydale incompetence.

She cursed under her breath when she saw that he was shining that flashlight everywhere.

It was time to bail. The cop would see the open mausoleum, and she didn’t want to be there when he did.

Buffy slowly crept away, moving stealthily to avoid detection. That was her plan anyway, before the beautiful night turned against her. Some leaves on the ground had hidden a branch, which of course she stepped on with a loud crack.

“Police! Come out now!” the cop called out.

Buffy cringed as she heard him start to jog towards her, the beam of light swinging around in big arcs around her as he called for backup.

Okay, time for Plan B: run like the wind.

She broke out into a sprint, heading toward the front of the cemetery. Luckily, the cop was no match for her Slayer speed; she was able to get a sizable lead as she burst out onto the street. She could still hear him chasing after her, though.

Buffy quickly assessed her options. She didn’t have time to wait for a cab, and she was too conspicuous on the street; it was late and there weren’t many people out on a Tuesday night.

Then she spotted a bar down the street; she could see the neon sign from there. It would be a good place to get lost in the crowd.

She hurried down the street, forcing herself not to run so she wouldn’t draw any attention to herself. Once she was inside, she headed straight for an empty table in the back. She slid in and took a moment to catch her breath. A pit formed in Buffy's stomach, however, when she saw the cop come in a minute later.


Dean leaned against the bar as he took a long pull on his bottle of beer, checking out the scene. Just then a blonde walked in, and she immediately caught his eye.

He looked her over as she made her way to the back of the bar. She was freakin’ hot, and it looked like she was alone. Perfect.

Before he could move toward her, however, he saw someone else come in the door.

It was a cop. It had to be the one from the cemetery. It was too coincidental otherwise, especially the way he was scanning the crowd as if he was looking for someone specific.

Dean ducked his head down, hoping he wasn’t noticed. He totally didn’t need to, though. The cop made a beeline for the same girl he was hoping to get friendly with. Dean frowned. The cop didn’t think that she was the one in the cemetery, did he?

He weighed his options. He could just walk away; he probably should. It was too risky to do anything else. But then, he hated to see someone get in trouble because of him, especially when she was smoking hot.

It only took a few seconds for Dean to make up his mind.

He had an opportunity here to swoop in and save the day, and he would be damned if he wasn’t going to take it.

Dean caught the bartender’s eye. “Hey, I’d like another drink. Something… girly,” he said.

The bartender nodded. Less than a minute later, the dude was handing Dean some pink drink, with a ridiculous garnish and everything.

After leaving a good tip, Dean quickly made his way toward the cop and the girl. As he drew closer, he caught their conversation.

“What are you doing here, ma’am? Are you alone?” the cop asked.

Dean saw the girl slightly bristle at this. She quickly covered it, however, and gave the cop a bland smile. “I’m flattered, but you’re really not my type,” she replied with fake sweetness.

Dean grinned. He liked her already.

The cop wasn’t as amused. “There was a problem outside a few minutes ago. Know anything about it?” He made it clear by his tone that he thought she was the ‘problem’.

Dean’s first reaction was indignation. The cop did think she was the one. Did he look a tiny girl? Then he realized that this was not the time to worry about his masculine pride.

Nah, it was time to put his plan into action. It’s not like the cop would recognize him, anyway. He thought Dean was a chick.

Of course, his plan would require the girl to follow along, but he didn’t think that would be a problem. She was staying pretty cool already when a lot of people would be sweating.

Before she could answer any more questions, Dean walked up. He put the drink in front of her.

“Here’s your drink, baby,” he said, as he slung his arm around her. “Sorry it took so long. The bartender took forever.”

He felt her tense almost imperceptibly for a second before she relaxed. Then she looped his arm around his waist and exclaimed, “I’m so glad you’re back, sweetie! The officer here is asking me all sorts of weird questions. At first I thought he was just hitting on me, but I think he thinks I did something!”

The tiniest smile tugged at Dean’s lips. Oh, she was good. This was going to be freakin’ awesome.


Buffy’s head was spinning. She was starting to think that there was no way this night was going to end well when one of the hottest guys she’d seen in a long time came up and put his arm around her.

It wasn’t difficult to figure out what he was doing; he was covering for her.

Sure, she didn’t know why he was doing this, but she wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth; especially when said horse had someone like him riding on it. Talk about eye candy.

Besides, spending her one night to herself in jail? So not what she had in mind.

The guy turned toward the cop with a frown. “Is there a problem here, officer?” he asked as he pulled her toward him protectively.

The cop didn’t reply. Instead, he studied the two of them for a moment.

Buffy was practically dancing with joy. She was positive now that the cop didn’t get a good look at her, because she could see the indecision and doubt written all over his face now.

Maybe she would get out of this after all. She hoped so, because otherwise Xander would never let her live this one down.

“You’re here together?” the cop finally asked. At their nod, he pressed on. “And you’ve been with each other all night?”

“You could definitely say that,” the guy drawled, giving the cop a knowing grin as his fingers began tracing patterns on her arm.

Buffy pretended to be embarrassed, though it wasn’t too hard. The blush staining her cheeks was real.

“Way too much with the information, sweetie! You could’ve just said ‘yes’!” she exclaimed hotly, burying her head into the guy’s shoulder. She looked up at the cop. “Is there anything else? I think I’ve reached my embarrassment quota for the night.”

After another beat, the cop shook his head. “We’re done here,” he said, albeit reluctantly.

They watched as the cop walked away. Once he was out of earshot, Buffy breathed a sigh of relief.

“I can’t thank you enough for that,” she said. “I really didn’t want to play 20 Questions with him.”

“No problem,” he replied with a shrug. “It looked like he just wanted to give you a hard time.”

They stared at each other for a moment. Buffy saw the spark of attraction in his eyes, and she felt a flutter in her stomach. It had been a long time since she’d seen that look.

She tore her gaze away, a little self-consciously. It was then that she realized they still had their arms around each other. She quickly disentangled her arm, and after a moment, he did the same.

A slightly awkward pause filled the air between them. It disappeared, however, at his next words.

“Maybe we’re past the point of introductions, seeing as we’re an imaginary couple and all, but I’m Dean,” he said with a charming smile.

“Buffy,” she replied as she tried to decide what to do next.

He must’ve noticed, because he immediately asked, “Would you like some company, Buffy?”

By the look in his eye, she had a pretty good idea what kind of company he kept.

Her knee-jerk reaction was to say ‘no’. He was the exact kind of guy she usually avoided; one just looking for a good time. She was fairly certain he often found it, too.

Then her inner self smacked her upside the head.

He just bailed her out. It would be a poor way to repay him if she blew him off. Yeah, that was it. Well that and the fact that he was the first guy she'd talked to in a very long time, at least about non-Slayer things.

She straightened up in her seat. This was her night. She should be looking for a good time. Tomorrow she could go back to being Buffy, the house mother of teenage slayers. Tonight, however, she was Buffy the young twenty-something woman who didn’t have to set a good example for anyone.

Still, she was nervous. It had been a long time since she had played this game.

A smile spread across her features as she looked at her rescuer. It was definitely worth playing, though.


Dean could see the indecision in her eyes. The cop was gone; there was no reason to keep up the ruse. He patiently waited as she bit her lip and looked up at him. Then her lips curved up into a slow smile as a sparkle came into her eyes.

He knew that look; he loved that look. He knew her answer before she said it.

“I’d love some,” she said.

Dean slid into the empty chair next to her, fully aware that she was looking at him with open curiosity.

“So, not that I’m complaining or anything, but why did you help me?” she asked, cocking her head to the side as she played with the straw in her drink.

Did she know how sexy she looked? Was she doing it on purpose? With a start, Dean realized that it was totally unconscious on her part, which just made her that much sexier.

Dean could’ve kissed the cop. Hell, he was glad Sam lost the damned shovel.

Then he realized that she was waiting for answer.

“Because I have issues with authority?” he offered, half-joking and half-serious.

She pretended to look him up and down. “Well, you do have the whole ‘bad boy’ vibe going for you. But how do you know I’m not guilty? You could find yourself Keyser Soze’ed by the end of the night,” she said playfully.

A hot chick who knew her pop culture. Dean was in heaven. “I’ll take my chances,” he said lightly. Then he gave her a crooked smile. “And honestly, I’m hoping you’re not completely innocent.”

She raised her eyebrows, but said nothing, taking a sip of her drink instead. He did the same and noticed that his bottle was almost empty. He made to stand, but she put her hand on his arm to stop him.

“Let me get this one. It’s the least I can do. You know, your basic ‘you scratched my back, I scratch yours’ scenario,” she explained.

Dean noticed that she didn’t take her hand away. “Okay,” he agreed. Before she could get up, however, he leaned toward her, his eyes gleaming mischievously. “Need any more scratching?”

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