Author: Regala Electra
Fandoms: BtVs/AtS & SPN
Rating: PG-13 (I'm shocked too)
Spoilers: BtVS/AtS is fair game; SPN "In My Time of Dying"
Summary: There are very good reasons why Dean enjoys Faith's company. These are not those times.
Author's Notes: As requested by callmesandy for a five things list!fic. The "one time he kinda didn't" was added on by me to lessen the angst. Er, I'm not sure it worked. Feedback appreciated.
5. Dean's been searching for his keys for the past half-hour, finally hunting underneath the motel bed, but only finds dust bunnies. Unless they're possessed dust bunnies who've hidden his key, he figures he's shit out of luck.
Not even bothering to feign concern for this huge tragedy while he messes around on the new laptop, Sam just tells Dean to retrace his steps. Yeah, like that's freakin' helpful.
Faith strolls in carrying a tray of coffees, bearing one of those smiles on her face that should be infectious (and would've if Dean's keys were where they belonged – in his damn pocket).
"We motoring soon?"
The way she asks it, oh, it's a dangerous question. Faith sets down the tray and that smile just gets bigger as she smoothly takes the keys out of her cleavage. It's an easy move, like naturally you'd always find keys to the best damn car on the road between the tits of one of the best lays in the damn universe.
Hell, Dean ain't gonna complain about Faith swiping his keys now that he has that interesting visual, only Faith then says, "I’m driving."
Sam shuts the laptop and picks up his bag from the floor with an eager bounce of energy that makes Dean instantly suspicious. Like Sam’s been in on this thing the whole time. He casts one of those annoying little brother looks at him (the one that sorta says dude, you are so whipped) and announces that he's ready to go.
Meanwhile Dean is trying to figure out if he's got any shot of tackling Faith and wrestling his keys back that won't end in his ass getting beat down all too easily.
4. Dean doesn't dance, okay?
Sure, it's one way to meet chicks, but that means dancing to that shitty club music that just pounds into your head without the comforting guitar thrumming through all the background noise. It's all drums and keyboards and computers and high-tech crap.
But Faith loves that crap and when they've got self-imposed shore leave (sometimes you need a breather between intense hunts, man), she insists they come with her to a club. She's almost more invested in seeing Sam hooking up than Sam is. Dean would make a crack about being a voyeur, but she'd probably agree with him and say if it's cool with him, she'd love to watch his brother get laid. And that is not cool with Dean in so many ways.
Dean won't dance with her and Faith's never been big on boundaries and they've been fucking for three months now (in some circles, it's called dating, although they seemed to have skipped all the boring parts and gotten right quick to the fun stuff). Where was he? Oh yeah, about to drag her away from her vertical throw-down with a goddamn trio of guys, all vying to get into her pants. It’s fucking with clothes on and it’s fun when Faith’s invested in the girl-on-girl stuff, but there ain’t anything fun about her doing a gangbang with some frat boys in front of his eyes.
Dean doesn't like wearing jealously like he's got his damn heart on his sleeve and he hates that when she's dancing, just like when she's fighting, she is in the moment. There is nothing else in the world but the moves and none of them are really planned out. It makes her a dangerous fighter and most of the time, one of the best, but when it comes to this, it's all danger and few benefits. For him at least. She’s having a hell of a time.
Then she looks at him, this look like she's asking something she's never asked before and Dean knows what it is. But Sam just has to bound over to Dean, leaving the cute blonde girl he was with completely hanging (Jesus, Sam's getting to be a master of not getting laid), so that he can say in his best Know-It-All voice, "She wants you to dance with her, Dean."
"I don't dance," Dean says, and it's quick, but he really wishes he did, just this once.
A new song starts up and whatever Faith had wanted, she doesn't care about it anymore, moving into a new patch of guys willing to be her dancing little go-go fucktoys.
3. She's different from Dean. She'll bounce back. She'll deal. She doesn't forgive, that's not what she does, just brushes it off and tells him about ducks and water.
They'll get into fights sometimes. The kind of arguments that don’t mean anything once they’ve had time to cool off. You share enough personal space and it gets tiring sometimes and they never agreed to make this permanent – for her to stick around longer than it takes to have a good time and kill some evil sons of bitches.
And she looks forward to hopping a plane coast to coast and even across the ocean like it’s nothing for her. She loves a good fight and enjoys spending time with him (and not just in the bed) and she’s got a knack of making Sam smile even when Dean can’t quite do it. But she’s a master of moving, more than anyone else and she tells him he doesn’t want to see her baggage and Dean cuts off the fake apology, saying he gets it.
It still hurts like a bitch to know that when she's gone, she's not sparing a thought for him.
2. He has one shot, he was told this, told it when he didn't realize what it would mean and that it would hurt this fucking much. A choice and now it’s real and he has to fucking end this.
Faith or Sam.
There are yellow eyes that mock him just by staring. A gravelly voice that's as close to being his father’s as it can be (the Demon had picked a near doppelganger this time around). and Dean's got no fucking time to spare.
Still Dean pauses, a split second and he's lost. And he hates the choice he makes, but it's always got to be Sam. Even if Faith doesn't ever understand, when it comes down to it, he's gotta pick Sam.
There's a laugh and it's the Demon's, so fucking sure of itself. Dean used to have goddamn clarity, but that was a long time ago.
1. Faith won't do him a goddamn favor and lie to him. She'd told him about the short shelf life of Slayers and in his work, he should know better. He's come back from death twice; figured they'd offer more chances to people like Faith and Sam, not just a regular human.
But there's nothing to bargain with and Faith's wounds are the type that kill a normal person in minutes but she's gotten twenty good minutes. Dean's not sure that's much of a favor.
So she gasps out her last breath (she's not even twenty-fucking-nine yet), and tells him what possessions she was most attached to, asking him to burn the fuckers till there’s nothing left. "I'm stupid sometimes, Dean," she tells in a horrible rattle. Before he can tell her she's not, she says, "I might try to stick around. You make sure I don't."
He'll burn the body later, just like he did with Dad's, just like he might have to someday with Sam, if Dean doesn't check out (and really check out this time, no third resurrection for him, he's had enough of it) before his brother.
0. "Wishes don't do jack," she tells him from the backseat. All the windows are rolled down and her hair flies in the wind. Dean pushes for more speed, enjoying how her hair looks as it whips across her face.
"Yeah," he agrees, "It all goes straight to hell."
Sam's staring out at the blur of rolling fields of the autumn harvest. He's getting too damn good at the silences.
"Like, if I ever wished I'd never met you and Sam-"
"Whoa, why'd you wish something like that?"
She raises an eyebrow at him. "Do I have to bring up the evil stuffed animals or should I jump straight to the succubus that nearly killed us all?"
Dean just chuckles.
"It's all relative or some shit. Patterns forming. Things turning out for the better and things just getting fucked up, because that's how it goes."
"You're a master of making mistakes, huh?"
Faith holds back her hair from her face and says very seriously, "Damn straight. Best in the where-ever-the-hell-this-is."
"It’s Virginia," Sam informs her, snapping out of his angst fest.
"Look, you ever get tempted to make a stupid wish, just don’t, okay?" Faith lets her hair fly loose again and just for this second, Dean can’t think of any wishes he’d want to make and that moment, that’s one moment he’ll learn to savor, if it ever has to come to that.
There’s miles still to burn and Dean doesn’t want to know where it ends.
Additional Story Note:
From 4: “Sure, it's one way to meet chicks…”
Inspired by Farscape, Scratch and Sniff (Season 3).
Pilot: "It made him dance?" John, defensively, "Hey, it's a great way to meet girls!"