Day Seven (BtVS / Supernatural / Terminator-verse)
Title: Hey Jealousy
Prompt: BtVS/SPN(/TSCC), Buffy/Sam, Buffy/Dean, follow up to The Comfort We Seek? In which ever way you can pull it, whether that be porn, deathfic, Connor chewing them out, or something else entirely…WARNING: Established Buffy/Sam, Buffy/Dean relationships. There is no, absolutely no, Wincest (Sam/Dean) here.
Fandoms: Buffy the Vampire Slayer / Supernatural / Terminator-verse
Disclaimer: The characters of BtVS belong to Fox, the WB/UPN, Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, etc, Supernatural belong to Eric Kripke, the CW, etc., and Terminator belong to Fox, James Cameron, etc. The ideas and concepts in this story are mine entirely. Please do not copy or take this story without my permission.
All fics by authors participating in this year's Wishlist challenge, can be found here: Wishlist_Fic
Jealousy. It was an ugly, invasive creature that horned its way inside, gouged open old wounds, and arbitrarily tore new ones. It was something Buffy hadn’t experienced in years, couldn’t afford it since the machines had taken over, and she fought for her life in a different type of war. And yet, here she stood, burning with jealousy. Letting it sear through her, reigniting old insecurities, and stirring up whispers she’d rather forget.
She stood, just inside the mess, perfectly still and silent as she watched as Dean and Sam interacted with the new Australian crew. The four girls, whose names Buffy hadn’t bothered to learn, had pulled up chairs to surround the boys, her boys
, at the small table usually reserved for the three of them. Beauty, foreign accents, and new tales of the War had drawn the attention of many of the men, and a few women, in camp. And, it appeared, Dean and Sam were among them.
Dean tilted his head back, vivid green eyes crinkling further with laughter, his laugh carrying across the mess, turning a few heads, at the gestures that the tall blonde to his right was making as she worked her way through some story. Her story drew to an end and she laid her hand down against Dean’s forearm, smiling up at him under long bangs, and a low growl rose in Buffy’s throat. Her fingers curled into fists, fingernails digging into the fleshy part of her palms, as she fought to remain still, to get control of herself. It took eight beats of her heart, loud in her ears, for the easy, honestly amused smile on Dean’s face to die. Eight beats for Buffy to watch a side of Dean Winchester that she rarely saw anymore, and missed way too much, before Dean’s face closed off.
She saw Sam’s spine stiffen, straightening him in his chair, with the change in Dean’s mood. She didn’t need to see his face to know that his eyes, too, were focused on the blonde’s hand on Dean. They were brothers, nothing more despite the relationship they shared with her, despite the rumors and hateful slurs she’d heard them endure. But for the last six years it had been only the three of them, never anyone else, and it didn’t seem like either of them was ready for that to change.
Relief, and embarrassment flooded through her, dropping her shoulders a little, and she released her tension with a low, slow sigh. Her fingers slowly uncurled, and she shook them out, nose wrinkling at the dull ache that had settled into them.
Silence had descended over the table, and the girls were discreetly shooting one another looks, before the blonde slowly removed her hand. A forced smile that didn’t reach her eyes appeared on her face and as she sat back in her chair, studying Dean for a moment before moving on to Sam. The rigid unease had left Sam, but the carefree moment had passed, and their play time with the girls was over.
Dean’s gaze lifted away from the pretty blonde to his right, and traveled across the mess until he saw her. His eyes widened slightly as he took her in, and she raised an eyebrow of her own back. A cocky grin drew up the corner of one side of his mouth and she watched the tension melt out of him. His eyes danced and he swiped his tongue along his bottom lip. And she felt her insides tighten, reminding her it had been a week, a week without Dean or Sam at her side, as she ran an errand for Connor. Sam turned in his chair, undoubtedly drawing with him the attention of those four Australian girls, but she only saw the relief in his eyes, the small smile on his face, and the slight jerk of his head indicating she should join them. Heat rushed through her, burning away her insecurities and chasing back the whispers until all she heard was the sound of her heart, beating steady in her chest.