Dean had no idea how she had done it, only that she had come through on her promise of fixing it. Hunter had picked him up an hour later and he had been free to go. Now he stood inside the little room in the arena that was made up as their office for the day. Both Hunter and Stephanie were there.
"What's going on?" He asked nervously.
"Christine told us the truth," Stephanie answered.
"The truth?" He asked.
"How she gave you the wrong script," she put the paper down on the table.
He looked down and quickly scanned it. His eyes caught the important words. Knife, Seth, threats, look like a lunatic.
"She thought it would be a funny joke," Stephanie continued.
"Obviously not," Hunter said.
"You don't have to worry about her anymore. She's gone," Stephanie said.
"You fired her?" Dean asked. "You can't fucking fire her."
"Have you seen what you did last night?" She asked.
She turned her laptop around and pressed play. He watch himself all up in Seth's face, threatening him with the knife. He had never seen Seth look that scared before. That was real fear. He felt extremely guilty.
"We're gonna play it up as a storyline. You snapped on your brother, and now you're locked away somewhere. You'll break out in a couple of weeks and come storming back," she said. "Meanwhile, you got two weeks paid vacation. Go home, Dean. You look tired."
Dean had some damage control to do first. Since it was still early in the day, everyone was back at the hotel. Or at least he hoped so. He hurried up to Seth and Roman's room and knocked on the door. Seth opened and before he could say anything, Dean wrapped his arms tightly around him.
"I'm sorry, Seth," he said. "I'm so fucking sorry."
"What happened? Talk to me, Dean," Seth said.
"Talk to us," Roman said.
They talked for almost an hour before Dean moved to his room to pack his things. He then went to Sasha and Bayley's room and knocked.
"Hi Sasha," he said. "I need Christine's address."
"Why do you still want anything to do with her?" She asked.
"You can't control who you fall in love with," he said.
"You must be a sucker for pain," she sighed.
It would have been faster to take a flight but he didn't wanna bother with booking one and handing in the rental somewhere, so he chose to drive all day and all night. He stopped in front of her apartment complex in the early morning hours. He got out of the car just as she opened the door with a couple of packed bags.
"Dean?" She asked. "What are you doing here?"
"You came through for me," he said.
"I told you I would," she said.
"Does Sasha know how this place actually looks?" He looked around. "What a dump."
"No, I never invited her. She thinks I own a penthouse apartment. And I did at one time," she said.
"Are you moving out?" He asked.
"I have to," she answered.
"Why?" He asked.
She sighed and moved a few steps closer to him.
"Because of what I did with the fake script," she said.
"You didn't do that," he said.
"You can't prove otherwise," she said.
"You got fired. Big deal. You can find something else," he said.
"If only it was that easy. I also got the fine," she said.
"The fine?" He asked.
"20 grand," she said.
He whistled in bafflement at the high number. He knew it would have been well deserved if she had actually done what she claimed to have done.
"Do you have the money?" He asked.
"Of course not. I got what should have been next month's rent in the bank and I'm gonna go earn the rest as quickly as possible," she answered.
"How?" He asked.
She didn't give him an answer. She only gave him a sad look before starting to walk away. He grabbed her arm, swung her around and pushed her up against his car. Her bags dropped to the ground as she placed her hands on his upper arms.
"How?" He asked again.
"I'll figure out something," she tried.
"How?" His tone dropped.
"How bad can it actually be? I can picture myself somewhere else while it's going on. A lot of women do it," she said lowly.
"Not my fucking woman!" He sneered.
"I'm not yours!" She sneered back. "And you already called me a whore so what's the big fucking deal?"
He crashed his lips down on hers, kissing her roughly and heatedly.
"You are mine!" He growled. "And I didn't mean it, baby. I was so angry because my heart was breaking."
"I told you I hurt people," she whispered.
"Yeah?" He smiled a little. "Better start making it up to me then."
"How?" She asked.
"For starters, by letting me pay that stupid fine. You didn't force me out there with that knife. I chose to do that so I'm taking half the blame here," he said.
He kissed her again, more calmly this time but still with as much passion as before.
"And since you're not living here anymore and your bags are already packed, you're coming with me," he said.
"You can't be serious," she said.
"But I am," he chuckled. "We're gonna figure out something for you. What do you wanna work with?"
"I actually liked cooking," she said.
"Great, I'm gonna help you start your own catering if that's what you want. Or call every chef in Vegas I know. Whatever you wanna do," he said. "As long as it's with me."
He picked up her bags and put them in the trunk. She stood there with a ruminative look on her face. He knew he had just dumped a whole lot of thoughts in her mind, and it was gonna take time to come to terms with them.
"Baby?" He asked.
"I'm gonna hurt you," she said.
"And I'm gonna forgive you," he said.
"Why are you willing to give me another chance?" She asked.
"Because I love you, and I know you love me too," he said.
She blinked a couple of times and then slowly nodded.
"I do," she said. "I love you, Dean."
"That's all I need to know right now," he grinned. "So are you coming or not, Spike?"
"Yeah, I'm coming, Buffy," she grinned back.
"Enough with that nickname," he said.
"She's still prettier than you," she said.
"I know but she doesn't get to fuck you," he said. "And if you ever actually meet her, you bring her home for a threesome."