Warnings: Language, non-explicit sexing and drug use, yo. Not necessarily in that order.

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural. The TV People do.

Second disclaimer: I wrote this little drabble years ago, in the Sam/Ruby hey day (such as it was) before Dean came back from Hell. Or, whatever... it's so long ago I can't even remember. Thought I'd dust it off and post it anyway since I'm clearing out my fic files. Maybe someone will enjoy it.

The pixie's dead before it hits the ground, but not before its parting shot of bewitched fae dust explodes like a glitter ball around Sam and Ruby. Two minutes later, they're both still trying to spit the gritty particles out of their mouths.

'I can't believe your contact led us straight to a fucking pixie,' Sam bitches, drink-gruff voice even more gravely with the dust coating his oesophagus.

Ruby rolls her eyes 'cos, yeah, of course this is all her fault, but doesn't say anything. What's the point? Sam's working with her, and that's enough. The bad attitude, borderline alcoholism and violent need to fight or fuck her on a daily basis are just things Ruby's taking in her stride. Not like she ever thought Sam Winchester would be a picnic once Saint Dean's deal inevitably came due. So Sam's a little nastier than he used to be; not like Ruby's gonna cry about it.

'We should lay low for the next twenty-four hours,' she says, wheezing. 'Till the dust wears off.'

'Yeah, I'm not a fucking amateur. I have come across fae magic before,' Sam says, clipped and unfriendly, and stomps off to the car, leaving Ruby to hack up half her insides and then run to catch up.

The thing about pixie dust? However bad things get, you don't remember it afterwards. Total freaking blissful non-recall. So, as long as you take yourself off to a nice quiet corner to wait it out without any third parties to complicate matters: you're home dry.

:::

'What the hell do you think you're doing?'

Sam's glaring at her, but she could really care less as she pushes past him and into the motel room. Ruby snorts. Twin beds- maybe old habits die hard.

'We should stay together tonight. Don't know what the dust's gonna do to us. Could get pretty crazy.'

Sam stares, raises an eyebrow. Ruby smirks and flops down onto the far bed, untouched, except by Dean's ever-present ghost. 'Don't worry, baby, I'm not gonna molest you.' She drags her fingers slowly through her tangled mane of hair. 'Not unless you beg me, anyway.'

Turns out, Sam doesn't beg. Just pins her down under the huge frame of him and takes. Jeez, Sam's a fucking hot mess these days. Not that Ruby cares when he's making her come harder than this body's ever known. After, though, after she cares a little. There's so much fucking work they've got to do.

Ruby sighs, and feels the bruises start to form where Sam's touched her.

:::

Nothing useful's gonna be accomplished tonight, that's for damn sure. It's starting now. She can already feel the dust tingling in her blood; every cell in this body waking up to play. Damn, it's good. It's making her giddy, in a silly, happy way, like she wants to sing, or dance, or…

Sam's large hand splays suddenly across the width of her bare stomach. He's smiling, warm and easy, in a way Ruby's rarely seen, and inever/i since Dean's been gone. Sam doesn't look at her this way, like they're friends, like she means something to him. It should be freaking her out, but she's enjoying it too much.

'Ruby,' Sam breathes, on the end of a goddamn snuffle. 'Is it just me, or did the stupid pixie dust hit us with the magical equivalent of being, like, really high?'

It's not funny, but Ruby finds herself laughing anyway.

'Just enjoy it while it lasts, Sammy,' she says. 'Tomorrow you can go back to being the meanest kid on the block.'

Sam must be fucked: he doesn't even snap at her for using the nickname.

'I'm not nice to you,' he says, managing to sound vaguely contrite, even through a general aura of contentment. Ruby wonders at the sparkle in Sam's eyes. He's alert in a way she hasn't seen for months, and it's like all the rage and guilt has been peeled back, easing it's suffocating grip on him. Ruby's pretty sure this pixie curse has gotta be hitting Sam ten times harder than it's hitting her, distilled as it is through her host body, but she's definitely riding the wave as well right now.

On impulse she scoots in close to Sam's face, rubs her nose right up to his.

'No, you're not,' she says. 'Doesn't matter though. I'm not going anywhere, Sam. Gonna make you so strong, nothing will ever hurt you again.'

Sam looks at her wondrously, and Ruby suddenly feels her heart contract painfully, because she knows it's just the dust at work here, but Sam's actually holding her and damn the way he's looking at her is terrifying. It's too intimate pressed up together on this single bed: the demon and the hunter.

'Why are you here?' he asks. 'Why do you even care what happens to me?'

Ruby swallows hard and tries not to come adrift in the deep, deep brown of his intent gaze. She'd forgotten this side of Sam.

'Lots of folks have big plans for you,' she says, finally. 'But, with my help, you're gonna be stronger than all of them. You're gonna be a leader, Samuel Winchester, and you don't realise it yet, but we're perfect together. We'll make a new world, Sam. I'll be right by your side.'

'Yeah?' Sam says thoughtfully, stroking one hand on the soft skin of her back. 'You and me, huh?' He grins suddenly, and sweeps her up in his arms, top sheet and all, twirling her round the room like they're dancing. 'Ruby the dark queen of the nightworld, helping Sam Winchester kick demon's asses to kingdom come?'

Ruby throws her head back and laughs as he spins them, and because Sam won't remember this in a few hours time, adds:

'Besides. I kind of like you, gorgeous.'

:::

The next morning Sam hits the whiskey earlier than usual. Only way to stave off the fae-mother of all hangovers long enough for them to get on with training. Ruby purses her lips and lets it go, this once, even ignoring the epic bitching when he notices she's slept in one of his t-shirts.

Another thing about pixie magic? It doesn't do a fucking thing to demon's memories.