So basically, I was bored in my geography class a few weeks ago, so I decided to write some BtVS/SPN crossover. This is set during season 7 of Buffy, and a few years pre-season 1 of Supernatural, since I like to make timelines work out and whatnot. It'll be a bit Winchester-heavy for the first few chapters, but I promise you'll see all your favorite Buffy characters before too long. Enjoy! Reviewers get virtual pie! :)

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"What do you say we take a day or two after we wrap this up and drive up to Palo Alto?" Dean had been debating whether he should suggest this to his father ever since they arrived in San Diego a few days previously to investigate a potential haunting.
John looked up from the shotgun he was cleaning. "To see Sam, you mean."
Dean nodded. "Since we haven't been in California since he's been at Stanford..."
"You figure that four months is enough time for him to stop kidding himself about this whole college thing?"
"I don't know, dad, but I think it would be good idea to stop in and see how he's doing."
After a fairly long silence, John told his older son, "I don't know Dean. I'll think about it."

A day and a half later, some remains had been burned, a ghost dispatched, and all the members of the unfortunate family who had moved into a haunted house had been saved. For the first time since Dean had suggested it, John brought up the idea of visiting Sam.
"You still want to go see your brother?"
Dean nodded. "Yeah."
Well Bobby just called, he's working a case in Oklahoma and wants some backup."
"Maybe next time we're out west then." Dean frowned.
"No, Bobby doesn't need the both of us. You can take the Impala and drive up, I'll get on a plane to Oklahoma City."
"You sure, Dad?"
"Yeah. Sam doesn't want to see me any time soon, anyway."

Dean wasn't going to argue, especially when the plan involved him not being the one who was flying. They soon had their hotel room packed up, and were headed to San Diego International Airport. Dean stuck around while John got his ticket and went through security, and it was after seven by the time he hit the road. After a couple of mostly sleepless nights, Dean figured he wouldn't want to drive all the way that night but he could at least get LA behind him and make it far enough to wake up at a reasonable time and get to Stanford for lunch.

The drive north was uneventful, but Dean enjoyed the time his car (well, it was still officially his father's car, but Dean considered it to be his baby all the same), his tunes, and the freeways of Southern California. A little after midnight, he passed a sign that said "Welcome to Sunnydale," and decided that it was as good a place as any to spend the night. He pulled off the highway and cruised around for a few minutes before he found a motel to stay in- a bit old and run down, dirt cheap, exactly as he was accustomed to.

When he knocked on the window of the office, the manager of the motel looked at him a bit suspiciously, but Dean didn't think much of it- it was 12:30 AM on a friday night, and he was a 20-something guy checking into a shady hotel in what seemed to be the bad part of town. He parked the Impala in front of room number 7, and carried his duffel bag, which contained his clothes and a few weapons, into the room. He had planned on hitting the sack right away but now that Dean was in the hotel room, he suddenly felt hungry. Remembering a 24-hour convenience store he had spotted a few blocks away, Dean grabbed his room key and his gun and set out walking into the night.

He made it to the convenience store without incident where he bought a couple of cheeseburgers (iffy, especially at one in the morning, but Dean was willing to brave it), a candy bar, and a six-pack of beer. A minute after he left the store, he suddenly got the feeling that he was being followed. Looking back, he saw three men behind him. Probably nothing to worry about, Dean thought, and even if they did decide to bother him, he could probably take all three of them with his eyes shut.

They were definitely gaining on him though. Dean quickened his pace; so did the men. Great. He really wasn't in the mood for this. Shifting the bag he was carrying, Dean reached into his jacket and put a hand on his gun. Sure, he wasn't planning on shooting anyone, but usually showing his gun was enough to scare wannabe thugs away.

About a block and a half before the motel, two of the three men suddenly came around on either side of Dean, the third staying directly behind so that he was effectively surrounded. Dean decided to play it cool at first. He flashed a goofy smile, hand still gripping his gun inside his jacket. "All right pals, I don't want any trouble, and I'm sure you don't either."

"I wouldn't count on that if I were you," one of the men sneered. He had probably three inches and twenty-five pounds on Dean, and looked like he was quite high on both the "mean" and the "dumb" scale. Dean opened his mouth to say something else, but shut it again when the faces of the men standing in front of him suddenly changed, with brow ridges becoming prominent, eyes changing to those of an animal, teeth turning into fangs. With a glance behind him, Dean confirmed that it was all three of them. And he knew instantly what he was dealing with.

Vampires. Great.

He weighed his options. Vampires weren't too hard to kill- beheading or a wooden stake to the heart, but the only weapons he had on him were his gun, which would probably just provoke the vamps, and a few knives, tucked into his boot and jacket, which didn't have nearly long enough blades to even attempt to cut through the neck of an inhumanly strong, pissed off monster. He wouldn't be able to kill the vampires, but he could probably get away.

Dropping his bag from the convenience store, Dean threw himself at the smaller of the vamps in front of him, catching him by surprise and managing to knock him over. He felt the vampire behind him grab him, and flipped that one over his shoulder, landing one vampire on top of another, just as the one already on the ground was starting to get up. The third vampire, the biggest and probably the leader, took a step forward. Dean landed a couple of punches on the vampire's wrinkly face, but that didn't stop him, and the vamp grabbed the front of Dean's jacket and hurled him about eight feet, face first into a wall.

Dean really wanted to go at the big vampire again, but he know that now was his chance to get away. He picked himself up off the ground, and started off at a sprint in the direction of his motel. When he made it to the major, well lit street that the motel was on, he looked back and saw that the vampires had fortunately not followed him. He ran the rest of the way at a slightly slower pace. Before he went back in the room, he opened up the trunk of the impala and grabbed a couple of wooden stakes, a machete, and a few bottles of holy water. He knew that the vamps would be able to follow his scent and also that they could enter a hotel room without permission if they chose to, but at least if the vampires did come after him, he would be ready. He was hoping that he'd be lucky and the vamps would just call him a meal that got away, and not give him another thought. If he was unlucky, they could have figured out that he was a hunter, in which case they would probably be on their way over to kill him with several of their closest friends.

He could really use some backup right about now. And maybe some new cheeseburgers.