Second verse, same as the first
A/N: Well sorry for the delay, but I was trying to plan out how I wanted to do this. Characters belong to their creators. Chapter 1: Second verse, same as the first
Dean fidgeted in his seat, impatient for Sam to finish in the bathroom so they could get going already. They were due at Buffy’s the next day and it was already late and they still hadn’t gotten a hotel room yet. He was anxious to see her but he was pretty tired of being in a car for the last god knew how many hours.
He spotted a weapons shop out of the corner of his eye and realized that he still hadn’t gotten Sam or Buffy anything for Christmas. Cursing softly, he glanced around for his wayward brother and decided to check out the store while he waited.
He walked into the store but the shop owner wasn’t in sight so he surveyed the store and all the weapons and ammo that were displayed in glass cases. He let out an appreciative purr when his gaze was caught by a silver dagger with an ornate scarlet sheath. He took a step closer to examine it, lifted it and hefted its weight experimentally.
“Can I help you, son?” The store owner addressed him as he came from a back room and Dean tore his gaze away from the dagger and to the man. He set it gently on the countertop and reached into his pocket for his wallet.
“Yeah, I’ll take the dagger and the sheath.” Dean answered, pulling out an ID and a couple of bills.
“You can get it engraved, makes a nice gift for the holiday.” The guy offered and Dean hesitated. “Free of charge.”
Dean thought it over and nodded, slid his ID across the counter and rooted in his jeans pocket for a slip of paper. He borrowed a pen on the counter and drew some sigils, then handed it to the shop owner. He wasn’t as good at languages like Sammy but he knew a few basic symbols and what they meant. “Can you do those?”
The guy studied the design and nodded, then picked up the dagger and brought it to a small work table along the wall with supplies on it. He put a pair of glasses on and glanced back at Dean, “Where do you want it?”
“Above the hilt should work,” Dean answered then had another idea and drew another symbol, a protective one on the paper below the first design. “Can you do this on the other side in the same place?” He lifted the paper with the design and the guy nodded again and got to work.
Dean browsed the shop while he waited and found a set of throwing stars that Sammy’d love, so he set those on the counter beside the sheath. He’d get Sam a book too, but his brother liked knives as much as Dean liked guns.
He glanced out the window to see if Sam was by the car but saw something else that made his blood run cold. There was no mistaking either figure, one being the girl he was currently buying a gift for and the other someone he had watched her kill only months before. What the hell??
“Here ya go son,” the store owner said, admiring his handiwork. He brought the dagger over to the counter and placed it and its sheath into one gift bag and the throwing stars into another. “Kid?” He asked, trying to get the young man’s attention again when he didn’t answer.
Dean started when he realized the guy was talking to him and went to pay for his purchases, his mind still on the two he’d seen out the shop window. He absently thanked the man and left the store with both bags in his hand, not even noticing that Sam was leaning against the Impala.
His brother straightened as he approached and watched Dean as he circled the car and opened the trunk to deposit the bags. Dean looked around for Buffy again and watched as Angel stumbled away from her.
“Dean, what’s going on?” Sam asked, breaking Dean’s thoughts. Dean glanced at Sam and shook his head dismissively. “Nothing, c’mon we’ve got to stop someplace.”
Dean climbed in and Sam followed, still eyeing his silent brother. Dean started the car and pulled onto the road, making a mental note to pull Buffy aside when he saw her tomorrow and ask her about Angel.
He needed to get his head on straight, or he’d only blow up at her which would be counter-productive to his plans. He wanted to tell her the truth about how he felt about her this trip and he felt his palms clamming up at the thought. He forced out a breath and became aware that Sam was trying to talk to him so he tuned back into what he was asking him.
“Dean? Where do we have to stop?” Sam queried once he finally got Dean’s attention, barely managing to refrain from pinching him to pry his brother out of his thoughts and answer the same question he’d asked twice already.
Dean pulled up outside of an art store and climbed out again without a word, leaving Sam to either follow or stay in the car. Grumbling about annoying older siblings, Sam hurried to catch up to his brother.
“We need to get something for Buffy’s mom,” Dean told him distractedly once Sam joined him inside the store. Buffy had filled him in on the mask incident when they’d left town after dropping her off but he really didn’t know anything about art or what sort of things Joyce liked. He’d only met the woman once after all. Finally he settled on a glass vase, figuring it was as good as anything else and Sam shadowed him silently to the check out counter.
They left the store and headed for a nearby hotel to get a room, and Dean once again managed to dial up the charm to secure one with twin beds. They carried their bags inside and deposited them, pulling off their jackets once they closed the door. Sam pulled out a pair of sleep pants and a t-shirt, then headed for the shower while Dean made the necessary precautions. Dean yelled to Sam through the bathroom door that he’d be back and left for the grocery store nearby.
He wanted to get some basics to fill the mini-fridge in their room, and maybe a small tree if he could wrangle one up. He’d had his ears bent enough by Sammy over the years about wanting a normal Christmas that he figured it’d save him from hearing it again this year if he just bought one of the damn things. They usually did gifts and egg nog but that was about it, yet this year Buffy and Joyce had invited them to spend the holiday as their guests.
Dean found a fake tree about 3 or 4 feet high and put it in the cart and headed for the registers once he found everything else they’d need. His mind was still stuck on Buffy and the way she and Angel had been talking. He was 110% sure she hadn’t told him that Angel was back, he’d have remembered it.
He felt his blood boil about the fact that once again she’d neglected to mention something that big to him but he squashed it with effort. If he was going to get the nerve to tell Buffy how he felt about her, it wouldn’t do to ruin it by fighting. No, he’d just have to pull her aside and try to be calm about the whole thing when he saw her tomorrow.
He carried the food to the Impala and headed back to the hotel and to Sam, thinking that this was going to be an interesting holiday.