Figures Out

Author: Lisa

Status: Completed Stand-Alone

Rating: PG-13 (for lanuage)

Pairing: Buffy/Dean

Fandom: BtVS/Supernatural Crossover

Genre: Drama/Romance

Spoilers: None

Summary: "She doesn't look, she doesn't see, opens up for nobody…" – The Fray (Little House)

Disclaimer: Supernatural and all related characters are copyright The CW Network. No infringement intended. Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all related characters are copyright Joss Whedon and ME. No infringement intended.

Distribution: Not without permission from myself.

AN: Written for Chosenfire's Song Fiction Request at "Route 66: Destination Sunnydale". The piece was inspired by The Fray's Little House and the lyrics can be found at the end.

I watch as she jumps off the mausoleum and spins her lithe body in the air so damn gracefully you'd think she was a hallucination that your mind conjured up. Her arms are tucked in and her sun-kissed blonde hair fans out around her head, the moon dances over it casting a silhouette of a halo.

Sammy said she looks like an ethereal creature when she fights, but than Sammy's full of poetic shit like that. I know better. She's God's personal reaper and hell of a lot sexier than the last reaper I met. The chick may be short and blonde but she'll tear you a part. The last five vamps we came across figured they could take her, now they'd barely fit into an ashtray.

She lands like a cat, with perfect ease and before the son-of-a-bitch knows what's happening she's shoving that wooden stake straight through his heart. Fuck I love the look they get the moment they realize they're dust.

Smirking she turns and looks at me with those emerald eyes that are full of secrets she won't share. They've got that look that. The one that tells me she's been broken one too many times I'm sure she sees the same pathetic look in my own eyes. She won't talk much about it but I've felt the scars that mark her delicate skin when my fingers glide over her back. She won't open up, which is fine by me because I'm not looking for any 'Dear Diary' moments.

Her hips sway in the most seductive way it causes me to groan involuntarily as she saunters over to me. There's a gleam in her eye that I've never seen before, like something's trying to surface that's unwanted.

My hands find their way to her narrow hips and I pull her flush against my body. The palm of her hand rests on my chest as I study those eyes of hers trying to figure out what the hell she's thinking.

"Later."

Her voice is soft and husky like she's just woken up from a deep sleep. Bending down I nod slightly, acknowledging her request before I catch her pink glossy full lower lip in my mouth. God she tastes like sin rolled in sugar and I tug at littler harder.

She pulls away before I can deepen the kiss. "Nuh uh. Winchester you promised me dinner first."

I throw my head back and groan in frustration. "Right... food." She's got to be the most tenacious person I've met and doesn't let much slid, especially when it comes to food.

I encase her small hand in mine as we walk out the cemetery passing large tombstones covered in underbrush. "You know I still wear the pants in this relationship."

fin

She doesn't look, she doesn't see

Opens up for nobody

Figures out, she figures out

Narrow line, she can't decide

Everything short of suicide

Never hurts, nearly works

Something is scratching

Its way out

Something you want

To forget about

A part of you that'll never show

You're the only one that'll ever know

Take it back when it all began

Take your time, would you understand

What it's all about?

What it's all about?

Something is scratching

Its way out
Something you want

To forget about

No one expects

You to get up

All on your own with

No one around – The Fray "Litte House"