A Day in the Life

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews and soothing this paranoid author’s nerves! Much appreciated! I promise I won’t freak out again. And thanks to Angellia, deiticlast, Mandarina, and morgandorffer for the recs!

Also, I hope you’ll forgive me for straying from the movie just the tiniest bit… but I needed to make a few changes so that the story fit Buffy and Dean’s personalities more. Because seriously, I can’t see either of them becoming as passive with each other as Mr. and Mrs. Smith! I also cut out the ‘introductory’ hits, because, well, you know what Buffy and Dean do. :)


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Present day


As usual, the ride home from the therapist’s office was quiet. They had been going to see the guy for over a month, and if anything, it was making the situation worse. At least Buffy thought so. Who knew what Dean thought?

She glanced over at her husband. He still was clenching and unclenching his jaw in that way that meant he was really tense. So not surprising. Once again, the therapist really pissed him off with a few of his prying questions. It was a wonder that she even got him to come anymore.

With a sigh, Buffy turned and looked out the car window, idly watching the outside world fly by as she became lost in thought – in angsty, guilty thought.

What was wrong with her? Why was it so hard for her to disconnect from slaying? She had her chance to leave, to have a normal life, but for some reason, she just couldn’t do it. Though she wasn’t at the forefront of every battle anymore, she couldn’t seem to stay out of the big fights… or the dangerous ones… or the difficult ones…

Because you’re a control freak, a voice said in her head. Not surprisingly, it sounded like Dawn.

Though she would never admit that to the real Dawn – who had said the same thing - she could mentally concede that Jiminy Cricket Dawn might have a valid point.

She could also admit to herself that not telling Dean about slaying was one of her stupidest ideas ever. Really, she had taken wishful thinking to delusional levels. What on earth had she been thinking?

Buffy never could talk freely with Dean – at least not about anything important. She was always editing herself, even when describing her day at school. And yet telling him the truth at this point in the game seemed like relationship suicide. So she kept up with the lies, feeling worse with every one and wondering when she would finally slip up.

After awhile, she realized that not saying anything was just easier.

The silence was slowly suffocating her, though. Well, that and the overwhelming guilt.

Part of her wanted to blame Dean’s job. It definitely added to the problem. He was gone all the time, and when he was home, he never talked about what he did - client confidentiality and all that crap. That was letting her off the hook way too easily, though.

Had she ever once complained about how often he was gone? Nope, because his frequent absences were extremely convenient for her and her slaying.

Basically, Buffy tried to eat her cake and have it, too, but all she ended up doing was choking on dry, stale piece of bread; hence the idea of counseling.

Instead of solving the problem, however, Dr. Insightful only made her realize how big the problem actually was. Seriously, could he emphasize the importance of honesty any more? She was doing just fine with her major guilt complex on her own, thank you very much.

As they pulled into the driveway, Buffy looked up at their house. It was just a little Cape – it was all they could afford because, hello, not a lot of money in private investigation – but it was warm and cozy and… perfect. She had fallen in love with it from the first moment she had seen it. Though she still loved it, it now had a tendency to remind her of what she had promised herself and failed. Worse, what she had promised Dean and failed.

God, was she brooding? Had it really come to this?

That helped snap her out of her downward-leaning spiral. She got out of the car, determined to make things right. She just needed to figure out how. Too bad marriage didn’t come with an instruction manual. Then again, she probably wouldn’t have read it anyway.

She decided to start Operation Save My Marriage small – really small.

“So, uh, dinner?” she asked as they got out of the car.

Dean looked at her, an inscrutable look on his face. It quickly disappeared, though, and was replaced with an easy grin.

“We can go to that sushi restaurant you like,” he offered.

Buffy brightened for a moment. Dean hated that place. She usually had to drag him there with the promise of a drive thru meal afterward, so it meant a lot that he suggested it – well, that and it upped the guilt factor like a zillion percent.

Then her face fell. She knew that there was a small contingent of Slayers in that neighborhood tonight. There had been some major vamp activity in the area lately, maybe even a nest - definitely not the ideal time to be strolling about.

“No, I- I don’t feel like sushi tonight,” she said quickly.

Dean raised an eyebrow at this. Buffy inwardly cringed; apparently lies became lamer with age. Or maybe they were like cell phone minutes, and she had exceeded her monthly allowance. After all, when did she ever pass up the chance to stuff her face with sushi until she was in a semi-comatose state?

She hastily tried to think of a better excuse, all the while hating herself for having to do so in the first place.

Then it came to her. Vi was telling her the other day about this place on Lake Michigan that was super cozy and romantic. Buffy had been toying with the idea of planning a mini-vacation there with Dean. Though she didn’t think a weekend away would work miracles, it was something. This was the perfect opportunity to bring it up, and it was the truth - sort of.

“To be honest, I was hoping we could save our money for a trip, maybe next week?” she said hopefully. “I know it’s short notice, but there’s this cute little town on Lake Michigan – Pentwater, I think. It’s six hours away, but maybe we could take an extra long weekend?”

She bit her lip, waiting to see what he would say. They really didn’t go on many trips; neither one of them had enough time to go for too long. Besides, their ideas of vacation were very, very different. Seriously, she couldn’t even suggest a trip that required air travel with injuring his manly pride.

“That sounds great, baby,” Dean replied slowly. “But Sam and I just got another case so we might have to work then.”

Buffy tried to hide her disappointment as much as possible, using the excuse of opening the front door to turn away from him.

“Sure, maybe another time then,” she said lightly, as she stepped into the front hall. “So, uh, I’m not really hungry tonight anyway. How about we just make some popcorn and watch a movie or something?”

After a moment of hesitation, Dean simply said, “Sounds good.”

Before long, they were both sitting on the couch, each with their own bowl of popcorn. They had given up sharing one big bowl soon after they got married. Buffy preferred to chew her food rather than inhale it.

She watched in mild revulsion as Dean piled the salt on, another reason why they didn’t share anymore.

“Why don’t you have some popcorn with that sodium?” she snipped, unable to withhold her snarky comment. Talk about misplacing her aggression.

Dean just grunted, choosing to stuff a handful of popcorn in his mouth instead of responding. They had had this conversation many, many times.

Buffy rolled her eyes as the opening credits to ‘The Ring’ began, reaching for her own sodium-free popcorn.

Ever since their first ‘date’ at the haunted house, it had become a ritual of theirs to watch horror movies and keep a running commentary about how lame they were. She should’ve stopped it the first time she almost slipped about the way vamps actually cohabitate, but she couldn’t. Somehow, it became this weird form of punishment for her, continually reminding herself of the secret she was keeping.

Yep, she was doing a fine job of sabotaging her marriage. If only she could fix it with just as much panache.


+++

Dean kept his eyes focused on the television screen as the previews began, the gnawing feeling in his gut growing bigger with every passing second; just like it always did after a visit with the quack. It really sucked, especially since just over a month ago he thought everything was fine. In fact, the whole therapy situation sucked ass.

Today they had one annoying question thrown at them after another; like, did Buffy think Dean always put work before their marriage and vice versa?

So what if he was gone a lot lately? Demonic activity had picked up. What else was he supposed to do? Buffy was just as busy with her job. That’s part of the reason why their marriage worked. It didn’t mean that he didn’t love her or anything.

So why did he feel like shit, shooting down Buffy’s idea to go away for a weekend?

He had nothing against the idea. Hell, it sounded like fun. The problem was that he and Sam had been in the Pentwater area a few months ago, posing as FBI agents to investigate a couple of murders. He couldn’t risk someone recognizing him, like that time at the freakin’ gas station, of all places. Still, he felt like a total douche.

This was all that goddamn therapist’s fault, making today’s session all about the importance ‘finding together time’ – because it definitely had nothing to do with the fact that he was leaving tomorrow for another hunt.

It wasn’t like Buffy ever complained about him going away so much. And sure, he felt guilty as hell for lying to her all the time, but it was for her own safety. That’s what he told himself, anyway, every time he had the opportunity to come clean and didn’t. And he always believed it – until now.

Now, it seemed less convincing. It seemed like… an excuse, and a shitty one at that. Stupid ass therapist.

As they watched the movie, he could tell she wasn’t into it. When the Watts chick caught the fly, he vaguely heard Buffy say something about ripping off Wonkavision, but that was it. She was completely silent otherwise. He wasn’t really feeling it, either. He knew things weren’t right, but he didn’t know how to fix it.

With a frown, he put an arm around her, half in appeasement and half in comfort – though whether the comfort was for him or her, he didn’t know. Almost absently, he began drawing lazy circles on her arm.

He wasn’t thinking about sex when he started doing this. He just needed to reassure himself that she was there and they were okay. When he felt her give a little shiver under his touch, though, he realized how much he needed her. The nosy doc had been right about one thing; it had been too damned long.

As his hand trailed down to her hip in an effort to pull her closer, however, he felt her freeze right before she nudged his arm away from her hip.

Swallowing his frustration, Dean took his arm back completely. He got the hint, loud and clear. She was pissed at him.

They watched the movie in silence for a few minutes. When Buffy spoke, he almost didn’t hear her, her voice was so quiet.

“Are you unhappy?” she asked, her gaze never leaving the screen.

Dean knew that she wasn’t talking about what had just happened – or what had not happened - at least not completely.

He blew out his breath slowly before replying. “Nah,” he said, shaking his head.

He knew she wanted him to say more than that, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it.

They both continued to watch the movie, but he was too agitated. He picked up the remote and pressed the pause button. Buffy glanced over at him, obviously wondering why he stopped the movie.

“I should go pack and then try to get some sleep. Sam and I are leaving early in the morning,” he explained.

The words came out much more abruptly than he had planned. He pressed a quick kiss against her lips and went upstairs, all the while pretending he didn’t see the hurt and disappointment written all over her face. That didn’t mean it wasn’t burned into his memory.

Yeah, the therapist had definitely made him take a hard look at things.

Maybe there was more of a problem than he thought. Maybe he’d either have to quit hunting all together or just tell her the truth even though it meant he could lose her, though both options twisted his gut. Worse yet, maybe he always knew that he’d have to make this choice some day. Maybe he just went out on hunts so often so he could avoid facing this head on.

Maybe, just maybe, Dean Winchester was a fucking coward.


+++

Buffy stayed downstairs for awhile, waiting until she thought Dean would be asleep. Once she thought enough time had passed, she quietly made her way upstairs to their bedroom. Thankfully, she could hear his slow, steady breathing before she even walked in.

Stripping down quickly, she changed into her pajamas. She took great care to move gingerly over the giant gash on her hip. She had gotten it late last night when there was an ‘emergency’ at the school dorm – at least, that’s what she told Dean when she had to leave halfway through dinner.

While Dean could possibly believe that it was some weird worked-related injury, there was no way she could explain how the wound would possibly be gone by morning, or at least significantly healed. So she had to hide it from him, and that meant no nakedness.

Buffy sighed as she climbed into bed. Yet another case of Slayer interruptus.

It wasn’t like they never had sex anymore, but with him being gone and her hiding mysterious injuries… their sex life was less than thriving.

Because of this, she sometimes worried that Dean was having an affair. He definitely had the opportunity, being gone so much. And she knew he wasn’t exactly a priest before they met. Deep down, though, she knew he was faithful.

Besides, if anyone was breaking the trust, it was her with her constant deception.

She couldn’t do this anymore. It wasn’t fair to either of them. She should just be honest with Dean. Either that, or retire completely and find a different job. Or maybe both.

But could she ‘retire’? Could she not be the Slayer and just be Buffy Summers Winchester? And who was that?


+++

A week later


“Baby?” Dean called out as he walked in the front door of the house.

“I’m up here!” came the muffled reply.

Buffy was in the bedroom, probably packing for their weekend away. He had surprised her with this trip just a few days ago. Though he didn’t know how to fix things yet, he thought this was a good start – even if he’d had to pretend that he could only be gone for a few days so they would have to go someplace closer.

He quickly climbed up the stairs, taking two at a time. He found her amid piles and piles of clothes.

Noticing the two giant pieces of luggage she had by her feet, he smirked. “You do know that we’re only going for a few days, right?” he asked.

She picked up a shirt that was lying on the bed and threw it at his head. “And you do know that you married me, right?” she shot back. Then with a sly look in her eye, she held up two pieces of lingerie and said, “Besides, do you really want me to choose between these?”

Dean’s gaze grew heated at the sight of a white, gauzy scrap of fabric in one hand and a red silk corset – complete with matching thong and garter belts - in the other. Naughty and nice. Oh yeah, he was looking forward to this trip. Maybe they could even have a little pre-vacation fun right now.

He reached her in three giant strides, ignoring the clothes as he trampled over them to get to her.

“Hey, buddy,” she said in mock indignation. “Those are clean!”

Any further protest died on her lips as he caught her up in his arms, claiming her mouth in a searing kiss. She immediately responded, parting her lips so his tongue could slip past and tangle with her own.

Before they could take it any further, however, Dean heard his cell ringing in his pocket. Metallica’s Enter Sandman. Sam.

He knew his brother wouldn’t call unless it was an emergency. Still, he was pissed at Sam’s timing. He had better be bleeding, as in gushing blood all over the floor or something.

With a grunt of annoyance, he took a step back and took out his phone, giving Buffy an apologetic look.

“Hey,” he said, almost barking the word into his cell.

“Dean.”

Any lingering irritation immediately evaporated and his whole body tensed. He knew that tone. Something really bad had happened, or was going to happen. He walked into the hall, mouthing that he was going to go downstairs where the cell reception was better.

“Hey, Sammy. What’s got your panties in a twist this time?” he said as casually as he could, just in case Buffy could still hear him. He knew his wife had notoriously good hearing, almost at freakish levels.

It must’ve been really bad news, because there was no sigh of exasperation on the other end of the line at his comment. Nothing prepared him for what Sam said next, though.

“Dean, the Colt’s gone.”


+++

Buffy watched as Dean left the room to talk to his brother, her heart plummeting. She saw the way he tensed at whatever his brother said; she could guess what would happen next, because it had happened before.

Sure enough, Dean came back just a minute later, looking grim.

“Baby, I’m so sorry,” he began. “But this is an emergency-”

“I know,” Buffy said quietly. It always was.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he promised. He ran a frustrated hand over his face. “I feel like shit, doing this to you…”

And he did. She could see it. In fact, that was the only thing that kept her from getting upset. Besides, how many times had she done the same thing to him?

She looked up at him and smiled brightly. “It’s fine. Go.”

Dean didn’t move, though. He started to say something but stopped. After another long moment, he finally spoke.

“Look, there’s no reason why this weekend has to be a total bust. Go up there with Vi for a girls’ weekend or something,” he suggested.

Buffy nodded mutely, all of her energy going into maintaining the appearance that she was fine with this. He didn’t look convinced, but then he didn’t have to be. He kissed her and left without another word.

She waited until she heard him drive away before she let her shoulders sag in bitter disappointment. She lay back on the bed and closed her eyes. After a few deep breaths, she tried to decide what to do. She just couldn’t stay idle, that was for sure.

Maybe she should call Vi. While most of the other Slayers who had been in the fight against the First went off to head their own units, the feisty redhead had stuck around. She wanted to help train new Slayers in addition to fighting, at least for now. Buffy was grateful, both for having another experienced Slayer on the Hellmouth and for the friendship she offered.

But Buffy really wasn’t in the mood for company right now. No, she was definitely in full wallow mode.

Instead, she got up and began unpacking her bags, slowly and methodically. When they were empty, she began picking up the ones on the floor. She didn’t stop until every piece of clothing was put away. It took longer than she thought. When she was finally finished, she collapsed on the bed, though it was more out of mental exhaustion than physical. Mercifully, after a few moments, she felt sleep start to claim her, and she willingly succumbed.

When Buffy awoke, she was surprised to see that it was almost noon the next day. And that her cell phone was ringing. Still a little foggy with sleep, she groggily answered it.

“Hello?”

“Buffy.”

She sat up, immediately alert. It was Giles. The fact that he called at all meant something was up. She had been dropping boulder-sized hints about backing off the slaying gig once and for all the entire week. And they all knew she was going away this weekend. This was bad.

“There was a break-in,” Giles said in a low, urgent voice. “Someone managed to slip by all the wards and protection spells.”

Buffy leapt to her feet and began pacing around the room. It was just as well Dean was gone, after all.

“Why?” she demanded. “What were they after?”

There was a moment’s hesitation. “The Scythe,” Giles finally said.

A pit formed in Buffy’s stomach. Oh yeah, this definitely qualified as bad. Disastrous, even. And unfortunately, Giles wasn’t finished yet.

“One of the girls must’ve have startled whoever – or whatever – it was that broke in,” he continued, his voice painfully tight. “We found Katie this morning. She’s… dead.”

Buffy froze in her tracks as she thought of the bright young slayer. Katie had only just joined them a few months ago, and now she was dead. And in Headquarters, the one place where they were supposed to be safe, the one place she was supposed to make safe.

Someone was going to pay.


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