Notes: Set sometime during season two of Supernatural (after Tall Tales but before All Hell Breaks Loose) and season six of Buffy (after All the Way and before Once More With Feeling). Pretend that the mythology works. Not betaed.
Of course it would be too easy to have a normal night.
Of course.
And by that, Buffy meant a normal night for her - patrol the graveyard for fresh graves, stake the newly risen vamps - y'know, the usual. Apparently, it was too much to ask for an easy night these days.
She stared across the should-be-abandoned cemetery at the two men currently desecrating one of the older graves.
Seriously, what the hell.
They didn't seem to notice her as she approached them, probably because they were too busy bitching to each other.
"C'mon, man, could you stop leaving the World Weekly News on my pillow every morning?"
"What's the matter, Sammy, afraid of little green men?"
The guy digging - who looked like a freaking giant from where she was standing - looked up from digging to glare at his partner. "Dude, not funny."
The other man laughed. "Fine, if you're gonna be a bitch about it."
Sammy made a particularly interesting face at that, and said, "Jerk." His voice was oddly fond.
And then he noticed Buffy standing not twenty feet away.
"Well, this is new," Buffy commented, arms crossed over her chest, one thin eyebrow raised. "Please tell me you're not planning on making a Frankenstein. I'm pretty sure that one's too old to be useful anyway."
Sammy muttered under his breath, "Frankenstein was the doctor," while his partner whirled around and froze. He and Sammy exchanged a look.
"We're federal agents," the man said, digging in his leather jacket for a badge, which he flashed to Buffy. "We're exhuming the body for a case."
"Uh-huh," said Buffy, sure her face was showing just how little she believed that. For one, they were both way too pretty to be feds; for another, what the hell kind of fed would be out digging up graves in the middle of the night? She brought up her completely valid point with a, "You're digging up a grave - by hand - at one in the morning? Right. And I'm Megan Fox."
"Look, sweetheart, we got work to do here, so why don't you just get a move on?"
"I really don't think that's gonna work, Dean," Sammy whispered, one hand tightening around the shovel's handle. "Maybe we should come back later."
Buffy frowned. "I can hear you, you know. Why don't you tell me what you're really doing out here?"
"Why don't you tell us what you're doing out here?" Dean shot back, looking more and more displeased.
"You're not from around here, are you?" Buffy asked wryly. So far, they seemed like ordinary humans - she didn't feel anything wiggy about either of them. Well, that Sammy guy made her a little uneasy for some reason, but she couldn't tell if it was just normal weirdness or supernatural weirdness.
Sammy climbed out of the grave and held his hands out in a pacifying way. "Okay, how about this? We go and you don't call the cops." Dean shot him a look, which he ignored. "We all just go about our own business. That sound good?"
She narrowed her eyes. Buffy opened her mouth to respond but then her spidey sense told her to duck.
So she did.
A body flew over her head. She straightened, saw the vampire now sprawled on the ground in front of her, and sighed. With a flick of her wrist, the stake hidden up her sleeve dropped into her hand, and she plunged it into the back of the vamp while it was still dazed.
It vanished in a cloud of dust.
The two men were staring at her like she'd grown another head. Sammy was brandishing his shovel like a weapon and Dean had grabbed a shotgun from somewhere, though he was lowering it with a look of shock on his face.
Buffy wrinkled her nose and said, "Yeah, that gun's not gonna do you much good. Why'd you even bring it here anyway?"
The men exchanged another look. It seemed like they did that a lot.
Dean let the gun drop to his side. "I'm pretty sure you can't kill vamps by staking them."
"Well, I just did," Buffy said, "but brownie points for not running away, screaming, I guess." She tucked the stake back up her sleeve. "You don't seem surprised by vampires, though. Who the hell are you guys?"
Sammy dropped his shovel and held out his hand. "I'm Sam; that's my brother, Dean. I take it you're a hunter."
She shook his hand. "I'm Buffy. And no. I'm the Slayer."
A crease formed between Sam's brows. "What's the Slayer?"
"The Vampire Slayer," Buffy said slowly. "Well, slayer of other things, too, I guess." She tilted her head. "And you're... hunters?"
Dean and Sam glanced at eat other, Dean mouthing the word, 'Slayer?' Sam shrugged minutely.
"Yeah," Dean said, turning his attention back to Buffy. "We hunt monsters." He nodded towards the grave. "Right now, we're just doing a salt and burn - this old broad's ghost's been causing all manner of trouble."
"A ghost," Buffy repeated. As far as she knew, you either exorcised a ghost or solved whatever its issue was, not messed around with its corpse. She was beginning to think these guys were missing a screw or five. Or were, at the very least, hilariously misinformed. They kind of reminded her of Riley, though - well trained and dangerously competent. Misinformed they may be, but they were definitely lethal.
Sam picked up his shovel and gestured behind him. "You mind?"
She shook her head. He took that as a cue to jump back down and resume digging.
"So, you're a vampire slayer, huh?" Dean asked, leaning back against a nearby gravestone.
"The Slayer," Buffy corrected, eying Sam as he dug. He seemed practiced at this, at least. Who the hell were these guys? "I'm surprised you haven't heard of me. How long have you been... 'hunting'?"
"Most of my life," Dean answered, crossing his arms. "How long have you been the slayer?"
"Since I was fifteen."
"No offense," Dean said, "but you sure don't look like you could take down a fly, let alone a vamp. I wouldn't believe it if I hadn't seen it."
"Hey," Sam's voice called from the hole, "don't let Jo hear you say that - I'm pretty sure they could be sisters."
Dean laughed. "Yeah, well, Jo probably shouldn't be hunting either."
"You definitely shouldn't let her hear you say that."
Dean was about to respond when "Secret Agent Man" started playing from his jacket. He took out his phone and said, "Ash. What's the word?"
Sam looked up from his digging but didn't stop.
"Sorry, man, nothing on Ava or the other kids just yet," she heard, and the voice sounded vaguely familiar. "I think I may have something on Yellow-Eyes, though - a hunter thought he might've tangled with him down over near Chicago."
"You sure?" Dean's grip on the phone became tighter, his voice harder.
"The omens say that there was definitely a demon in the area, but it ain't showing up on my map for one of the kids. You got any idea why he might've been there?"
"Not a clue. Thanks for the update." Dean made to hang up, but then stopped. "Hey, out of curiosity, have you ever heard of a vampire slayer?"
"Whoa, you in Sunnydale, dude?"
Buffy blinked.
"How did you know?" Dean asked, staring at her.
"Look, you see Buffy, you tell her Dave from comp sci said hey. She saved my life when we were in high school. She's good people."
Dave? Buffy cast back in her memory. Oh, the computer genius, the one who almost got her killed because of the demon, Moloch, right after she and her mom moved here. She hadn't really heard from him after their disastrous graduation - she hadn't even known he'd survived it.
"Wait, your name is Dave?"
"One of 'em, yeah," came the response.
"Can I?" Buffy asked, strangely motivated to talk, holding her hand out.
Dean looked her up and down before handing over the phone.
"Dave?"
"Buffy!" Dave, or Ash, greeted. "Long time, no see. How you been?"
"I'm good," she said faintly. "Glad to hear you made it out of graduation." She saw Dean and Sam giving her questioning looks but ignored them. "What have you been up to?"
"Oh, little of this, little of that. Got kicked out of MIT, ended up in a hunter bar, rest is history. Those boys ain't givin' you any trouble, are they?"
"No, just digging up bodies in my graveyard. You guys deal with ghosts different than I'm used to."
Dave laughed. "You'd be surprised at all the methods out there. Like with vamps - only Slayer-handled stakes actually work. Otherwise, decapitation's the only real way to go." Huh. Interesting. "Shame you're still stuck in Sunnydale, though."
Buffy shrugged. "No place like the hellmouth, right?"
"Right, right. You tell Willow and Xander hi for me, if you see 'em, yeah?"
"Sure, Dave. Good to hear from you," said Buffy.
He hung up after wishing her luck. She gave the cell back to Dean.
"You went to school with Ash?"
Buffy shrugged.
"Dean!" called Sam. Dean gave her another onceover before heading to the lip of the hole. Buffy followed curiously.
Sam used the point of the shovelhead to break open the pine box. After he peeled away the coffin lid, he climbed back out.
A shiver went down Buffy's spine. Open graves gave her the heebie-jeebies, especially after the whole crawling out of her own grave thing.
Dean picked up the gas can that lay nearby a worn, black duffel bag and started saturating the remains while Sam poured salt from a large, tin canister. When they were done, Dean pulled out a silver zippo and set the whole thing on fire. They stood and watched it burn in silence.
"Is it always this anticlimactic?" Buffy asked.
Sam smiled at her and said, "Only if we're lucky."
Once the flames died down, Dean started refilling the grave, while Sam packed away their supplies.
"You guys do this a lot, huh."
"Ghosts and demons, mostly," Sam replied. "Sometimes vampires and shifters."
"What's Yellow-Eyes?"
Sam paused, then looked down at the ground. "Demon. Killed our mom and dad."
Buffy winced. Yikes. "Sorry to hear that." She tilted her head. "Is it named Yellow-Eyes or what?"
"His real name is Azazel," Sam said, zipping the duffel. "Don't know much about him or what he wants, just that he has yellow eyes."
She pursed her lips. She could ask Giles for help. Maybe Willow or Tara could find something, if they're not too busy arguing with each other. "I've got some friends who could maybe help research him, if you want? I mean, I can't promise anything, but it couldn't hurt. Might find enough to do a locating spell."
"Really?" Sam gave her a wide smile. Wow, he was a lot cuter than she first thought, even if he was overgrown. Kind of like a giant puppy. "That'd be great. Here, let me text you my number."
Later, she watched them drive off in a black, classic car, two new numbers in her address book. She rubbed her fingers over the display, hands shoved in her pockets.
What a weird night. But hey, who knew, maybe if she did them a favor, they'd repay her later down the road.
Whatever, it's, like, three in the morning, and she has to get up early for more job hunting.
Ain't her life grand. Buffy sighed and started to make her way home.