20/01/2007 05:02:00
Title: Baby It's Cold On The Floor
Author: Demongirl
Disclaimer: Everything Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Supernatural belongs to their respective creators, not me.
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Buffy stepped out of the bathroom, a large fluffy towel securely wrapped around her body and another smaller one gripped in her hands, drying her hair. As she walked over to her room she could hear the faint strains of a television show coming from downstairs, where Dean was sprawled out on the couch, a beer bottle loosely dangling between his fingers. Buffy entered her room and headed for her wardrobe, standing for a few moments, pondering what to wear, then she removed a tank top and a pair of jeans from a hanger and dumped them unceremoniously on her bed.
Dean lay on the couch, fully dressed, attempting to concentrate on the television show that was currently playing, despite his inability to find anything the lame characters said as hilarious as the laugh-track fellows seemed to. He didn't understand why anyone would even think of endorsing such jokes, when they were so blatantly ridiculous and goddamn unfunny. Dean sighed, shifted his gaze to the beer bottle he was swinging around with his fingers, and took a swig. Dean leaned back and continued to contemplate the agony laugh-trackers must be forced to endure, and whether they actually watched the drivel they were chortling and chuckling uproariously at.
Buffy stood up, and placed the vanilla body cream she had just finished rubbing her skin with onto the surface of her vanity dresser. She tilted her head in the direction of the sounds coming from the television sitcom. Buffy knew Dean hated those shows, and she didn't understand why he was sitting there and watching one of them. She shook her head, he was probably allowing his brain to turn to mush in preparation for the night of hardcore research they had ahead of them.
Dean grinned, an idea coming to him, and stood up from the couch. He silently made his way up the stairs barefoot, discarding his overshirt and his belt, leaving on his plain forest-green tee-shirt and faded jeans. When he reached the open bedroom door, he spotted his prey in a position perfect for his planned surprise.
Buffy was bending over her dresser and had just grabbed some lingerie to put on when she froze, acutely aware of a hard male body behind her. She straightened, and only succeeded in pressing her full torso against Dean, and, turning around, her hazel-green eyes met Dean's, and a beautiful, satisfied smile spread over her face. She wrapped her arms around his neck and threaded her fingers through the soft hairs at his nape. Dean ghosted a soft kiss over her lips and rubbed his nose against hers in an affectionate Eskimo-kiss.
"Took you long enough."
