Second Impressions

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Second Impressions

Dean rolled onto his back, groaning and wincing as the bright morning light of the sun caused his sleepy eyes to ache. He brought up a hand to rub his eyelids, before sitting up and resting himself on his elbow, wondering what the Hell it was that had woken him up.

"Holy crap!" he exclaimed as he opened his eyes to reveal an unamused looking Faith stood over him, her arms folded and her foot tapping impatiently on the floor. "How long've you been stood there?"

"A while. I swear to God you're harder to wake up than the dead. And I mean the dead variety who don't come back up to bite your ass. Why is there are chair wedged under my bedroom door handle?" she asked.

He darted his gaze away from her penetrating glare and cleared his throat embarrassedly. "Uh...no reason."

Slipping out of bed, he whipped the chair away from the door, heading out of the room before she could question him further. No way in Hell was he about to admit that he'd done it to protect himself from Andrew – his new, number one adoring fan. The guy had treated dinner the night before like some kind of date, candles and everything. And he had looked more than perturbed when Dean had opted out of a Star Wars movie marathon and chose to head on to bed instead.

Dean peered down the hallway cautiously...the pathway to the bathroom looked safe enough. He paced towards it quickly, but before he had a chance to enter, a door in front of him opened and he walked straight into a head of wild blonde hair.

"Oh!" Buffy let out, taking a step back.

Dean reached out for her shoulders to steady her – an unnecessary task as she hadn't so much as stumbled.

Without letting go of her shoulders, he looked down at her and grinned. She had clearly just woken up – her eyes were blinking sleepily and she had a crease mark on her cheek that must have been left by her pillow. Her hair was mussed up and wild, her cheeks were flushed, and the flimsy tank top and shorts she was wearing was doing nothing to hide her tanned, athletic body. Damn, she was sexy!

"Morning, sweetheart," he greeted, smirking at her flirtatiously while allowing his hands to slide gently from her shoulders down to her elbows.

Buffy blinked, trying to clear her head of her sleep filled mind. Oh crap, she had forgotten about their house guests. And here she was, strolling through the house, practically naked. But then, he wasn't wearing all that much either...a white t-shirt that was spread tightly across his chest and a pair of gray shorts, which honestly, was making her wonder if those thighs felt just as muscular as they looked. His feet were bare and she found herself thinking just how sexy those feet were. Never in her life had she thought of feet as sexy before. And his hair, all mussed and sticking up all over the place, it was just adorable enough for her to want to run her fingers through and...

She shook her head vigorously, finally beginning to really wake up. What the freakin Hell was she thinking? She looked down at where the pads of his thumbs were rubbing circles on the insides of her elbows and pushed him off.

"What the heck are you doing?" she hissed furiously.

He raised his eyebrows in faux confusion. "What? I'm just saying good morning."

"You were totally flirting with me!" she countered angrily, yet quietly enough so that the other members of the house wouldn't overhear.

He took a step closer and smirked down at her, feeling much more on his game than he had the night before now that he had gotten a decent nights sleep. "You sure about that? Maybe you were just hoping I was flirting with you."

She pulled a disgusted face and once again stepped away from him. "Yeah, cause you're just so irresistible," she replied, her voice dripping of sarcasm.

Dean shrugged carelessly. "It's okay that you want me. Most women do."

Dean was making Buffy angrier by the second, which she found she preferred to the lusty feelings she had been harboring moments before. Anger she could deal with. A whole bunch less confusing.

"Are you always this much of an ass in other peoples' homes?"

"Are you always this bitchy in the morning?"

"Are you always this much of a jerk...all the time?"

He pulled a wounded expression and folded his arms over his chest. "Hey, what'd I ever do to you? You've known me all off twelve hours."

"How about coming on to me moments after leaving my roommates bedroom?"

"I already told you, I was just being friendly," he responded, knowing that he was lying. This conversation wasnot turning out how he had been hoping.

Buffy reached up and punched him in the shoulder. It wasn't her hardest punch. In fact, she was positively holding back. But it was hard enough to cause Dean to stumble back a few steps into the wall and wince in pain.

"Jesus!" he hissed, rubbing his newly sore shoulder with his hand. "What the Hell?"

"Carry on being friendly," she said, a little menacingly. "I dare you."

And with that, she pushed past him and entered the bathroom, slamming the door on her way.

"Hey! I was just about to go in there!" he protested, only to hear the sound of her triumphant laughter before the shower was turned on.

"I do not like you!" he called through the door, deciding right then and there that it was true. And the thought of her being naked in the shower right at that moment was doing nothing for him. Nothing!

"Damn it," he groaned, shuffling away towards the kitchen and mumbling something about how much he hated crazy chicks.

"Yo B, what time are we headed over to talk to Giles?" Faith asked Buffy some time later as the latter entered the kitchen area.

"After breakfast. I'm starving."

"I made pancakes," Dean announced. "Haven't done that in years."

"Congratulations," was Buffy's sarcastic response.

"Yeah, I was gonna save you some. But then I remembered that I didn't like you, so I ate them," he countered.

Buffy flipped him off as she brushed pat him to set about making her own breakfast.

Faith and Sam glanced at each other in surprise, silently asking where the sudden hostility between his brother and her sister slayer had come from. In unison, the pair shrugged and went back to watching Dean and Buffy, who were now throwing not so subtle insults at each other as they moved about the kitchen.

After Buffy had finished preparing her breakfast, she took a seat across from Sam. After a moment, he glanced up from the paper he had began to peruse and with a start, he noticed that she was watching him. He raised an eyebrow, questioning her silently.

Shrugging in response, Buffy went back to her breakfast, stating, "I like you more than your brother."

Faith snorted loudly in amusement, and Sam tried to hide an appreciative chuckle as Dean threw an icy gaze her way.

"Of course you do," he grumbled. "Chicks like you always like the girly guys."

Ignoring Sam's 'Hey!' of protest at his brothers' comment, Buffy narrowed her eyes and looked at Dean. "What do you mean 'chicks like me'?"

He smirked in response, snatching up Sam's paper and heading over towards the other side of the kitchen where he hopped up onto the counter and opened it up with a flourish, humming a tune by Metallica under his breath as he began to read.

Buffy silently took in a large, calming breath. Damn, this guy really got under her skin! How the Hell he managed to irritate her so much after being in the room with her for so few minutes she had no idea.

She quickly ate her breakfast and calmly placed her knife and fork down on her empty plate, getting up and taking it over to the sink and rinsing it before putting it into the dishwasher gently. Slowly, she stood back up and turned around, before reaching a hand out, quick as a snake bite, and grabbing hold of one of Dean's swinging ankles, yanking it hard so that he slid straight off the counter and plummeted to the floor with a loud thump.

"What the Hell?" Dean yelled, making no movements to get up from his sprawled position on the ground.

Buffy bit her lip innocently and widened her eyes. "Oops?" she offered.

"You're a crazy son of a bitch, you know that?"

"It was an accident!" she protested, albeit a little feebly.

Rolling his eyes, Dean held out his hand towards her. " Whatever. Least you could do is help me up," he said through gritted teeth.

Huffing, she gripped his hand in hers, but before she had a chance to pull him up, he jerked her arm towards him, causing her to lose her balance. She fell over his legs and landed in a jumbled heap next to him.

"Maybe it's time we intervened," Sam suggested quietly to Faith, a little worried that this seemingly reasonless bickering was going to get out of hand.

Faith sat back in her seat and grinned rakishly as she watched the two blondes in the kitchen. "Nah. I need me a good dose of entertainment before we hit Boringsville later."

"Boringsville?"

"Scooby meeting. You know, watchers and all the rest of the gang. It's a total yawn fest. They'll just talk a whole bunch and then hit the research. You'd totally..." she looked him up and down for a moment. "...love it, actually. They're just your kinda people."

Buffy kicked out, untangling her legs from Dean's and moving herself into a sitting position. "Jerk!" she hissed.

"Oh, I'm sorry...wait, can you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"I...I think it's the sound of the pot, and it's...yep, it's calling the kettle black."

"Are you sure we shouldn't intervene?" Faith heard Sam ask her again.

"Hey, it's not like they're trading blows or anything. Chill, Sam, they'll be fine."

"You think you're hilarious, don'tcha?" Buffy growled.

"Pretty funny, yeah."

"Well I got news for ya, buddy. You're not."

"Oh, I am. You're just humorless. A humorless...wench."

"A wench? What the Hell is a wench?"

"I don't know, but I know you're one of 'em."

"Oh God, I am so gonna kick your ass!"

Faith's eyes widened as she watched her friend lunge towards Dean, fire in her eyes as she pounced. "Uh...maybe we should intervene?"