Apocalyi Now
Prologue: You Only Get One Chance At A First Dismemberment
In a darkened room, Dean Winchester and a girl are fighting. At first they seem evenly matched, but the girl soon overpowers him and pins him to the ground.
DEAN: C'mon! What are you, like twelve?
BUFFY: I'm spry.
DEAN: Oh yeah – well spry this on for size, bitch…
He grunts a few times, but otherwise doesn't move a muscle. Buffy looks down at him and cocks an eyebrow.
BUFFY: Oh I'm sorry, was this the part where you demonstrated a sudden burst of strength and got loose?
DEAN: You think I'm afraid of you?
BUFFY: Be nice to meet a vamp who wasn't. Would inspire a fuzzy nostalgic glow.
She raises Mr Pointy.
DEAN: Whoa whoa whoa! Vamp? I'm not a vampire, honey. And what the hell is that meant to be?
BUFFY: This? It's a really big splinter. What do you think it is, moron?
DEAN: I'm not a goddamn vampire!
BUFFY: Which totally explains why you were creeping around in this vamp nest and standing over the dead people when I busted in!
DEAN: I'm trying to kill the damn things, that was why!
Buffy produces a compact mirror from her pocket. She checks the mirror and sees Dean has a reflection, and immediately seems apologetic. She releases him.
BUFFY: You're all reflecty. Hmph. I usually have a Pinnochio nose for weird and you are lying your ass off to it right now.
DEAN: (rolls eyes) Oh God. Stakes? Checking I have a reflection? Look, honey-
BUFFY: (quietly) The next time that word is said I hope it's because a beehive has hoved into view.
DEAN: -I'm sure you mean well and you're, huh, freakishly strong and all…(he pulls a seductive face) kinda hot by the way…(all business again) but hunting vampires? Trust me. You are way out of your league here.
Three vamps burst in from all sides, one crashing into Dean and knocking him back on his ass. From his vantage point on the floor, he watches as Buffy spins, kicks, punches, pirouettes and stakes, driving Mr Pointy deep into the chests of two vampires in quick succession and turning them into puffs of smoke. The last vamp rushes her from behind. Without even looking, eyes instead fixed on Dean, Buffy drives Mr Pointy behind her deep into its heart.
BUFFY: Slaying.
DEAN: (astonished) What?
BUFFY: I prefer "slaying" to "hunting". It's got that olde-worlde charm to it. Now, you were saying something about leagues...?
DEAN: LOOK OUT!
Springing to his feet he barrels into Buffy, knocking her over just as the third vamp, still very much alive and with Mr Pointy still protruding from his chest, was about to strike. Dean and Buffy hit the ground, the vamp loomping over them. Dean kicks out with his feet, knocking the vamp off-balance, and manages to scramble for the one-handed axe he had been holding when Buffy first tackled him. Raising it, he and the vamp face-off against each other and the vamp's fangs slide down from behind his teeth. Buffy sees this.
VAMP: What is this place? Why did they die from this?
He indicates the stake and pulls it from his chest with a disgusted snarl, hurling it across the room.
DEAN: No idea. But you know what-
Dean lunges and the axe flashes and the vamp's head tumbles from his shoulders.
DEAN: -you just died from that.
He goes over as if to help Buffy to her feet. She gives him an 'oh please, really?' look and athletically flips herself upright. This done, the two warriors stand facing one another, and an air of awkwardness descends over proceedings.
DEAN / BUFFY: (speaking simultaneously) So you – I'm sorry you go – um.
BUFFY: Nice quippage, by the way.
DEAN: Oh you liked it? Awesome. (pause, puffs out cheeks) Awesome. Um. I'm Dean, by the way. Winchester.
He offers a hand, awkwardly. It's covered in vamp blood. Dean notices this and wipes it apologetically on his jeans before offering it again. Buffy looks at it like it might explode. She waves cutely at him instead.
BUFFY: Buffy Summers.
DEAN: Oh okay fine, "Buffy" don't tell me your real name. You know what? Dean isn't my real name either.
BUFFY: Oh the name thing. I haven't heard that in ever. Please, do go ahead and mock it, Mr Smith & Wesson.
DEAN: That's Winchester, Tiffany!
BUFFY: Sorry Mr Flintlock, I must have misheard.
DEAN: Buffy's really your real name, huh? (shrugs) What the hell.
BUFFY: (sighs) Are you always like this?
DEAN: Like what?
BUFFY: Disagreeable, overly macho, childish and slightly slow on the uptake?
Dean processes this. His lips move as he does so.
DEAN: Sorry, what was your point? (off Buffy's look) Hey look, blondie. You were the one busted into my vamp nest and interrupted my hunt.
BUFFY: Slay.
DEAN: Hunt! Man you're annoying! The hell you even doing in Idaho?
BUFFY: And by Idaho I'm assuming you mean Cleveland.
They emerge from the cabin, on the edge of a lake. Dusk is drawing in. Judging from Dean and Buffy's startled reactions, this is where neither one of them came in.
DEAN: Where's my car? (turns to Buffy accusingly) Where's my car?
BUFFY: That sentence loses all meaning without the word Dude in front of it. Genius, in case you hadn't noticed, this isn't where we came in. Someone's teleported us or transported us or wormholed us or something. Same someone that probably threw those vamps our way. We need to figure out what's going on, and that means and I shudder to think these words, we may actually have to spend some time with one another and try womanfully hard not to strangle one another in the process. Get me?
There is silence for a moment. Then:
DEAN: Where's…my…car?
BUFFY: (looking up to the heavens) Oh I get it. This is torture. I'm in Hell.
DEAN: This ain't Hell. Believe me, sister. Oh! Baby! There you are!
He runs to the back of the cabin, where sure enough, there is the Impala, looking none the worse for wear.
BUFFY: Totally not judging on calling your car "baby".
DEAN: Totally couldn't give a crap. (gets into the Impala, gives Buffy a cheery salute) Enjoy totally hitch-hiking.
BUFFY: Really? Leaving a little girl all alone in a cabin in the woods? (mock-earnestly) There could be monsters out there.
DEAN: Kidding? The way you move? I should cripple you in one leg to give the monsters a chance.
Buffy is patting her pockets.
BUFFY: Cell's gone.
Dean frowns, and checks his own, then pulls down the glove compartment.
DEAN: Mine too.
He looks back. Buffy has taken off her jacket. She runs her hands through her hair and puts one leg up on a tree stump, before exaggeratedly slowly stretching out her limbs to hook a thumb in the air in the classic hitch-hiker's pose. Dean's eyes bulge. He clears his throat.
DEAN: This is so much like the first five minutes of a porno it's scary.
He nods her over and Buffy climbs into the passenger's seat, smiling over at him.
BUFFY: And yet despite that statement, I'm still okay with sharing a car with you.
DEAN: Because you think you could kick my ass.
BUFFY: I think the word I'm looking for here is...totally.
Dean nods his head matter-of-factly, and guns the engine. The radio flares into life and begins playing "Go Your Own Way" by Fleetwood Mac. He casts a long querying glance over at Buffy as the music plays. The Impala stays where it is, as though waiting for her reaction.
BUFFY: Hey. Driver picks the tunes.
Dean inclines his head in a "huh" expression, surprised despite himself. The Impala speeds off into the night.