Chapter 4

Nursing his bottle of beer like it was the only thing keeping him going, Dean glared at the dance floor for the 100th time that night. After they had left her house, Buffy had switched back to sweet and innocent, and spent the entire car ride swapping stories and laughs. Granted, Sunnydale is so small that it was like a 2 minute car ride, but still, it was something.

Now Buffy was channelling her inner sex kitten, dancing in the middle of the dance floor, swinging and rotating her hips in a way that would have made a stripper jealous.

Oh, but that wasn't why he was glaring.

If she was dancing by herself he could have just sat back and enjoyed the show…wait…bad thoughts about your 'sister'. Bad Dean. No, it had something to do with the guy who she was dancing with, if you could even call it dancing, who she had oh so casually said was her boyfriend.

Dean fingers clenched and unclenched reflexively around his beer bottle when he saw the guy's hands trail down and grab her ass. Oh no, he was far past angry.

If Buffy was paying attention to him instead of Grabby Hands over there, she might have noticed the tell tale sign of his anger- i.e. ignoring the hot brunette who's breasts were practically spilling out of her shirt, licking her lips in a way that promised to make him cum long and hard if he took her home.

He glared at the boy over Buffy's head, pretty easy to do since she was so tiny.

Damn, the girl had so many personalities it was hard to keep track.

Buffy silently crept back to the bar when her feet starting killing her. Note to self: stilettos make a good makeshift stake when slaying, but bad for dancing. She found Dean exactly where she left him, the only difference being 5 empty beer bottles now lined up in front of him. She decided it would be fun to scare him for acting like an ass all night. Oh yeah, she knew he had been glaring at her and Parker. Yeah, she was short, but that's where Slayer spidy senses come in handy. Just as she was about throw a half hearted punch at his shoulder, he caught her fist mid swing without turning around.

"M' not the drunk yet, princess" he drawled, impressively only slightly slurring his words.

"Hmm, your senses have definitely improved. I used to be able to sneak up behind you whenever you were waiting for me and make you scream like a little girl"

"Yeah, that or I could see your reflection" he said while tilting his head to indicate the huge mirror behind the entire expanse of the bar.

She blushed bright red at his words. Damn, she hated being white sometimes.

"Umm…yeah…knew that was there…just testing you" she managed to stutter out. "So you ready to head out?"

"I dunno, you ready to stop using that boy as your stripper pole?" he spat out.

"You're mad at me" she stated, casting her gaze towards the sticky beer covered floor, kicking her foot out at an imaginary rock, and the piece de resistance, yeah, she was pouting.

He sighed; silently cursing the fact that she had him wrapped around her little finger.

"No I'm not, let's just get outta here". He drained the last of his beer and wrapped his arm around her waist, tightening his hold and glaring at all the males who checked out her scantily clad body on their way out the door.