A/N: I need to give a big thanks to my loyal beta reader isugirl, I forgot to do that last chapter (bad me). The chapter is named after the title of a Queen song from the album Jazz (1978). I don't know if I mentioned this before, but as a salute to the Supernatural verse, I plan on naming each chapter after a classic rock song or album. I don't picture the Winchesters as being particularly big Queen fans (especially Dean), although I myself enjoy them. You'll see later in the chapter why I felt it would be fitting to name this installment after one of their songs. Hope you enjoy!

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Chapter 2 - Jealousy

Sam was seriously contemplating murder. He'd miss his brother (eventually), but it was quickly becoming a matter of self-preservation. The past eight hours in the car with the man had been some of the most miserable he'd ever had to endure, which was saying a lot. Currently, Sam was suffering through the third ear-piercing rendition of the chorus to Bad Company's Shooting Star (the 'nah, nah, nah, nah…' portion was particularly painful). Amazingly, Dean's ability to carry a tune didn't seem to be improving with practice and he'd had plenty of practice. He'd already worked his way through most of his tape collection and had now moved on to singing loudly and obnoxiously to whatever was playing on the local classic rock station. Sam had tried several times to turn down the volume, but it only made his brother more determined. Each time, Dean would crank the stereo even louder and his singing would somehow manage to go even further off-key. Sam had gotten one small break from the assault on his hearing, but he wasn't sure it had been an improvement.

A few hours earlier they'd stopped at a gas station that was attached to a greasy-spoon type diner. Dean had insisted on getting their food to go and Sam soon learned why. Instead of his usual cheeseburger, his brother had ordered a tuna melt with extra onions and a ginormous order of onion rings. Hours later, the car still smelled strongly of tuna fish and raw onion, and every few minutes Dean would pick up his empty soft drink cup and make a sucking noise that was worse than nails on a chalkboard. His big brother was obviously being annoying on purpose and he was damn good at it. Sam knew that Dean preferred to be the boss and didn't like being coerced into things, but still, dude was just being childish. After all, it wasn't like Sam was forcing him to go to Lilith Fest or to a taping of The View. They were going to Cleveland to meet with the woman Dean was secretly pining after for God's sake. Sam was doing this for him and while he didn't expect gratitude, he certainly hadn't expected his brother to behave like such a jackass. Apparently, the old saying about 'good deeds never going unpunished' was more accurate than he thought.

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Buffy's apartment was only a couple of blocks away from Council headquarters, so she decided to drop by on her way back from the mall. It was around 8 p.m. and fully dark out, but she thought she may still be able to catch Giles before he left for the day. He often stayed late reading, researching, and answering voice mails and emails. He could do that at home, but he always claimed he'd be too tempted to watch television or, God forbid, get some actual sleep. To tell the truth, Giles probably needed a day off worse than she did. He'd been going nonstop, seven days a week ever since they'd left Sunnydale. Being head of the Council had turned out to be much less glamorous than Buffy would've imagined. So, it was with little surprise that she saw his car was still parked in front of the main entrance. She pulled in beside him and made her way inside.

Buffy stood for a minute, leaning against the doorway to her Watcher's office. He hadn't noticed her standing there because he appeared to be absorbed with pounding on his keyboard and muttering under his breath. Buffy cleared her throat and he finally looked up at her. She noted that the dark circles under his eyes appeared heavier than usual and his brow was crinkled. He looked surprised to see her, but gave her a warm smile and ushered her inside with a wave of his hand.

"So, what did the keyboard do?" she asked. "Should I introduce it to Mr. Pointy?"

"Kennedy," he replied with a sigh. "She's continually pushing for some outrageous expenditure and griping about every bit of policy." He removed his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose before continuing. "And of course, she has an abundance of helpful suggestions," he added bitterly. "She's grown quite tiresome."

"I find that hard to believe," Buffy replied with a clearly implied 'I told you so'.

"I suppose I could always relieve her of her position in Scotland and call her back to the States."

Buffy smiled, she knew Giles was teasing her. "Sounds like a great idea," she stated. "Of course, I'll be retiring to a secret desert island."

"As will I," he agreed dryly. "So tell me," he continued, changing the subject, "what brings you by on your night off?"

"Just checking in," she replied, taking a seat in one of the chairs sitting in front of his desk. "Wanted to make sure there were no new fires in need of my stompy foot."

"Only the usual, there's no need to worry. You should be out enjoying your night off."

"I'm not the only one who needs a night off," Buffy observed, noting the lines of fatigue on Giles' face.

"That will happen only in the event that the Council becomes fully staffed again," he replied tiredly. "So mark your calendar, because I'm planning a delightful Holiday in the year 2050… of course, I'll likely be too dead to fully appreciate it."

Buffy frowned in sympathy. The old Council had been a bunch of stuffy old jerk-faces, but it turned out that they weren't so easily replaceable. Surprisingly, you couldn't just put an ad in the paper and expect to find qualified candidates with an extensive knowledge of the supernatural. The few people who applied had been good for nothing more than a few laughs. In fact, they were all completely and utterly insane, but at least it had been entertaining.

"I did have a question for you," she began hesitantly (Buffy felt guilty asking Giles for anything while he was so obviously stressed).

"What is it?" he asked curiously.

"Well, remember I told you about those hunters, the Winchesters, coming in tomorrow night. I was thinking maybe the Council could pay for their stay while they're here. I mean, they are coming to help us out and it's a really long drive…"

"That's..," Giles said, attempting to interrupt.

"AND," she continued quickly, cutting off her Watcher, "the car they drive is like a hundred-years-old. It probably only gets two miles to the gallon."

"Buffy," he attempted again.

She cut him off again, her voice taking on a pleading tone. "Please Giles. I remember what it was like not to get paid for this job and you know I'm still just a tiny little bit bitter about it. I just thought it would be nice if the Council showed them some appreciation is all."

"If you'd allow me to get a word in, I would tell you to make the reservations."

"Really!"

"Yes, of course. Just put them up at our usual place. As you said, they are trying to help us."

"Thank you," Buffy beamed. "You're the best king of the Council ever. I'd even wear it on a t-shirt."

Giles smiled at his Slayer and shook his head fondly.

"What?" she asked suspiciously.

"I just find it a bit odd that you're so excited over a couple of hunters coming to town. Honestly, they're normally a fairly crude lot. In fact, the last time you met one, I seem to remember you turning the barrel of his rifle into a pretzel."

"Well, I didn't like that guy," she replied with a shrug. "He was a stupid jerk… but, I like the Winchesters, so this is different."

"You'll have to tell me which one it is you fancy," he said, still smiling. "That way I'll be sure not to embarrass you too badly in front of him."

"What did Willow tell you?" Buffy asked anxiously. "She didn't say anything about what she saw in Arizona did she? Because nothing really happened there… really." The Slayer paused, her eyes narrowing. "I'm going to kill her," she stressed.

"No one's told me anything," he said, raising his brows curiously. "However, it is a bit obvious from the way you've been behaving that something is going on. You don't normally rush out to buy a new outfit every time we receive a lead."

"I actually bought three," Buffy admitted sheepishly, "and a new pair of shoes. Willow's coming over tonight to help me decide which one I should wear tomorrow."

"I see," he stated, one brow still raised. "My apologies then, obviously you're just terribly dedicated to your research."

"You're forgiven," she replied smiling. "And his name is Dean. Just remember, you said you wouldn't embarrass me."

"I'll try very hard not to seem overly British," Giles stated with a smirk.

"Good," Buffy chirped happily as she rose from the chair. "I'll leave you to your hate mail then. I need to go call Dean and tell him not to make any reservations." Before she walked out the door, she added sternly, "Don't stay here too late."

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The fact that the radio station they were listening to was playing Bohemian Rhapsody was simply more proof that the world hated Sam Winchester. Dean had never been a fan of Queen, but apparently he was willing to overlook that fact, due to the potential for maximum annoyance that particular song provided. Between the volume of the stereo and Dean's 'singing', it took a few moments for it to register with Sam that someone was trying to call his brother's cell. He tried to get Dean's attention, but the man was purposefully pretending not to hear anything he had to say. Finally, he gave up, turned off the radio, and answered his brother's phone without even bothering to check the caller id (more than likely it was just Bobby anyway).

"What?" he asked, snapping irritably into the phone. "Oh, hi Buffy," he said politely, once he realized who was calling. "No, this is Sam, actually. Sorry about the way I answered… it's been a long drive."

"Give me my phone," Dean demanded beside him.

Sam just ignored his brother. He'd been a huge pain in the ass all day. He wasn't in the mood for his orders right now.

"I'm good," he continued. "How about you?"

"I said give me the phone Sam," his brother repeated tightly.

Sam just shook his head, smirked, and gave Dean the finger.

"Ow!" he exclaimed in surprise when his brother socked him in the arm and then roughly snatched the phone out of his hand. "What the hell is your problem?"

Dean just returned the rude hand gesture and put the phone to his ear.

"Hey Buffy," he said (trying to keep his anger at Sam out of his voice). "Nothing," he replied in answer to a question on the other end of the line. "Sam's just being a dick." Dean then listened quietly for a moment. "No, you don't need to do that," he replied. "I've got it covered… I'm sure," he added firmly after another pause. "Listen, I'll talk to you later okay? I need to find a place for us to hole up for the night. Yeah," he said, turning to give his brother a glare, "it's been a really long drive. I'll get up with you tomorrow… Yeah, you too… See ya."

"I'm a dick!" Sam exclaimed after his brother had hung up the call. "Me? Seriously? Dude, I'm not the one who's been yowling like a tortured cat for almost nine hours straight."

Dean checked his rearview mirror and when he saw that no one was behind him, he slammed on the brake, turned the wheel sharply to the right, and skidded to a stop on the gravel shoulder.

"Get out Sam!" he growled as he climbed out of the driver's seat and slammed the door. "We'll go ahead and settle this right here."

Sam climbed out and followed his brother toward the back of the car. "What the hell is your deal?" he demanded. "You've acted like a complete jackass all day and now you wanna… what? Throw down on the side of the road?"

Dean stood with his fists clenched at his sides, his jaw set tightly. "I can't believe you'd do this to me," he stated.

"Do what? I don't know what you're talking about." Sam was confused as hell, his brother was seriously pissed off at him and, on top of that, he actually looked hurt.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about. There are billions of girls out there Sam, if you're that horny, pick one!"

"Oh man, is that what this is about? You really think I'm trying to get with Buffy?" Sam started laughing a little, he couldn't help it. His brother had never accused him of trying to take a girl away from him before. This whole situation was just weird and almost comical, but even so, he made sure to keep a wary eye on his brother's fists.

"You're the one who said you wanted to go to Cleveland and get laid," his brother accused angrily. "Buffy is pretty much the only chick we know there, so it doesn't take a genius."

"I never said I wanted to go there and get laid. YOU said that. Okay," he conceded, "I did mess with you a little, but I was just trying to get you to stop acting like such a dumbass and admit you want to see her. Damn Dean! I can't believe you'd even accuse me of something like that!"

"Sorry," Dean mumbled, looking down at the gravel in embarrassment.

"I'm not gonna pretend it doesn't sting a little that you don't seem to trust me," Sam began, "but I'd take it a whole lot more personally if you'd done anything in the past two months that even approached rational behavior."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Sam sighed and leaned against the trunk of the Impala. His brother no longer looked like he wanted to tear his head off, so he felt it was safe to let down his guard. "Dude, you've been on an epic binge ever since we got back from Arizona. You've been drinking like a fish and screwing any girl that can even claim to be attractive… and then, when you think nobody's looking, you sit around and stare at that picture of Buffy. What part of that makes sense?"

Dean wished he could just disappear. "What the hell are you doing going through my stuff?" he countered accusingly. He was both pissed off at Sam for spying on him and desperately hoping he could deflect this conversation with a show of anger.

"I haven't been going through your stuff. You sent that picture from my phone, remember? I'm not trying to bust your balls here man. I'm actually worried about you."

"Sam, please don't start," Dean said almost pleadingly. He was staring at the ground again, refusing to meet his brother's eyes. "I'm sorry," he continued, "I shouldn't have accused you. I'm an asshole, okay? Can't we just agree on that and drop this already."

"No Dean, we can't drop it. This isn't about you being an asshole, because obviously that's a given. I'm talking about the fact that every day that goes by you get more and more like Bobby. I love the guy, you know I do, but I don't want to end up like him and I sure as hell don't want you to either."

"I'm not gonna end up like Bobby," his brother scoffed.

"Really? Because it seems like you're well on your way." Sam paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts. "No matter what you say, I know that thing with him and Ellen bothered you just as much as it did me, but that should make you realize that you can't afford to piss away your chances."

"My chances with Buffy you mean?" Dean asked bitterly. "Dude, I don't have a chance with her. I haven't seen her in months. She's probably seeing somebody, plus what do I have other than a car and a few hundred bucks I won in a poker game? Besides…"

"Besides what?" Sam interrupted. "You're scared of getting hurt? She's not Lisa. I don't know exactly what happened there, but I think it's a safe bet that it had something to do with you being a hunter."

"That didn't help," Dean admitted, "and she wasn't wrong. It's not fair to risk someone's life like that. She has a kid to think about. Anyway, this has nothing to do with Lisa. Why do you always have to over-analyze everything?"

Sam ignored the question and continued on with what he wanted to say. "This is a totally different situation Dean. Buffy's a Slayer. She risks her life every day doing pretty much the same thing we do. I don't see how you'd have the same problems."

"Sam."

"Dean," his brother echoed back in the same tone. "It's okay to want something for yourself," he continued. "I know you've never believed that, but it's true."

"You don't get it," Dean replied, gritting his teeth in frustration.

"I do get it," Sam disagreed. "You're not as mysterious as you think you are. You still believe you don't deserve to be happy because of what happened in hell. Am I right?"

"That's not a little thing Sam. I was a monster! You don't know the half of it. I can't just pretend it never happened."

"I know you can't," his brother agreed sincerely, "but you can forgive yourself. God knows you can forgive other people. Look at what I've done and you forgave me. It doesn't get much worse than setting Satan loose on the world. Would you say you don't think I deserve to be happy again?"

Dean sighed. "You know I'd never say that."

"Of course you wouldn't," Sam stated. "Come on man, give yourself a chance. That's all I'm asking. I went to all this trouble to setup this flimsy excuse to go to Cleveland. The least you can do is try and make something of it."

Dean smiled a little. "So you do know bringing them that ugly little bastard is a waste of time?"

"It might not be a total waste of time," his brother shrugged. "I guess there's always a chance they could get something out of it. But yeah, I was reaching. I totally pulled that one out of my ass."

"Not bad Sammy. You might actually be able to run a decent con one day."

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"Yay," Buffy declared as she flopped down on her couch wearing a pair of sweats and a tank. "The fashion crisis has been averted."

"Chalk up another one for the good guys," Willow agreed. "We can fight evil and make sure you're the best dressed Slayer in town. Nothing can defeat us."

"Thank you Will," Buffy replied with a sincere smile. "I really do appreciate you putting up with my spaz-fest. I know you think I'm a complete idiot."

"You're not an idiot. You're just excited and I happen to think it's cute."

"Does 'cute' mean delusionally desperate in your world?"

"You're not delusional," Willow stressed. "We've been over this and I remain firmly convinced that Dean's only coming here to see you… and if you persist in disagreeing I may have to curse you," she scolded, shaking her finger in a show of false sternness. "Seriously Buffy, when was the last time you brought one of your kills home to study?"

"Never," she admitted, "but that doesn't mean this isn't a real lead. Maybe they're just as desperate as we are?"

"I might buy that if it weren't for the whole 'I'm too proud to let the Council pay for my stay' thing. Please," she said with an eye-roll, "that's just male posturing at its most obvious. Add that to the fact that his brother just happened to call Dawn today - out of the clear blue - and ask all kinds of questions about you two." Willow stopped talking and shook her head in disbelief. "That totally equals the fact that they're running a con on us Buffy… and a very poorly executed one too. Men can be ridiculously simple," she observed. "It almost makes me consider switching teams."

"Maybe," she agreed. "But I still wonder. I mean, if he couldn't deal with the weirdness that surrounded me in Arizona, what's he gonna do when he sees the Hellmouth? This place is pretty much the pinnacle of weird."

"Once again, we've already been over this. I don't think his freak-and-flee that night had as much to do with you as you think. There's some big secret-keeping going on between him and his brother. Plus, I told you that mark on his shoulder meant he'd been touched by some major mojo. I'm convinced there are extenuating circumstances."

"Yeah, I guess so," the Slayer said thoughtfully. "I told you he knew something about the non-pocalypse didn't I?"

"No!" Willow exclaimed with a hard push to her friend's shoulder. "How could you keep this from me? You have to tell me now. I don't care if it takes all night."

"Well you better make a pot of coffee then, because this entire story may take an entire two seconds. "Let's see, it went something like this," she began, taking a dramatic pause before adding, "there were a bunch of douche bags and it sucked."

"That's it?" Willow asked in disappointment. "Douche bags? Wow, that's just incredibly eloquent… and even worse, so not informative."

"That's Dean, Mr. Silver Tongue. Short on details, long on eloquence."

"Sounds like it."

"Anyway," Buffy said, "If you're right and this is all a devious plot and not a legitimate business trip, we need to come up with our own underhanded plan."

"Like what?" her friend asked excitedly. "Does it involve code words?"

"I was thinking something more simple… dinner actually. But I do want to plan ahead. I want it to be a group thing. You know, just in case I'm wrong and Dean has absolutely no interest in me. If I've got some backup, I won't feel so loser-y." Buffy paused for a moment before continuing uncertainly. "I was thinking you could go with us… with Sam actually. Not as a date," she added hurriedly, "just as a friend. I don't want him to feel like a third wheel. He's really nice Willow, I know he was acting a little funny when you met him, but I think you'd like him. He's super polite and I'm sure he wouldn't try anything."

"I don't think that's such a good idea… It's not Sam," she stressed. "It's… well… I just don't think Dean is my biggest fan… because of, you know. Anyway, I think it would be better if you took somebody else." Willow paused for a moment to think before adding, "Hey, Faith is supposed to be coming to town tonight, she's always up for a good time. Plus, I'm sure Xander and Allie would go with you guys too. That way you'd have extra support."

"I don't want Faith to go," Buffy replied with a pout.

"You still don't trust her?"

"No, it's not that. It's just… she's walking sex Will. You know that. I'm afraid Dean will take one look at her and forget I'm alive."

"You're sexy too," Willow stressed. "If I had to choose, I'd pick you… Wait a minute," she said with a cringe. "That sounds kind of bad. I don't mean… Well you know, that would just be too ick… like incest."

"It's okay," Buffy smiled, "I get it."

"I'm just trying to say you shouldn't feel threatened by Faith. You two are different, but that doesn't mean you're not just as attractive. If Dean doesn't flip out when he sees you in that outfit, he's just not Buffy-worthy. Besides, I'm sure his brother would have a lot more fun with Faith," Willow added suggestively.

"Yeah, Faith probably would enjoy getting her hooks into Sam. Of course, Dawn did have a major crush on him… Oh well," Buffy shrugged, "she does seem really into that new guy of hers. Oh I don't know what to do… Are you sure you won't go?" she asked her friend again. "Pretty please with little chocolate sprinkles on top."

"No Buffy. I seriously believe Dean would feel a whole lot more comfortable if I wasn't around."

"He just needs to get to know you. I'm sure he'll love you. Everybody loves Willow."

"I have a feeling he might be an exception to that rule. Amazing as that sounds. But you don't need to worry about that now. You just need to trust me. Like I said before, I'm sure Xander will go. He can wear the Willow-hat. He has full Scooby credentials, plus he's a guy. Guys like to have other guys around. I think it's a sports thing. Anyway, I'm doing this with your best interests in mind. Again, you need to stop with the arguing and heed my wisdom."

"What if I gave you a kitten?" Buffy offered while trying to look as pitiful as possible.

"No," Willow stated firmly. "And stop looking at me that way. I'm completely impervious to sulky, lost puppy-dog-face."

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A/N: I promise the guys will arrive in Cleveland in the next chapter. I just had to get a 'lean on the Impala and talk about feelings' scene in. I've written 19 chapters and not one of them has contained that. It seemed wrong and I felt dirty.