Hello loves! I know it's been a two week break, sorry about that. Midterms are upon me, so school has been nuts. I hope this chapter somewhat makes up for it? Thank you for continuing to read and review, it means a ton to me!

I'm so glad you're enjoying the set up and the interactions! I spend a lot of time working on the dialogue and thoughts so that it feels like the actual characters. It's probably going to an equally long break for the next chapter, and I am sorry about that too. =( Huzzah university life...

Hope you guys enjoy the chapter!

Chapter Five – Love On The Telephone

Buffy stared at the phone held in her hand as she had for the past twenty minutes. She had kept Dean Winchester's number safely tucked in her nightstand since the night he gave it to her, hidden deep within a long abandoned novel that she still swore she would finish one day. No matter how many times she had pulled the little slip of paper out, she had never gotten past this part. She had dialed the digits a countless number of times, always with the intent of finally placing the call, but chickened out every single time. The ridiculousness of the whole situation was not lost on Buffy. She didn't know why she felt like she should call this person, she didn't even know him. Not beyond his name and profession anyways. Why she thought this stranger would care about her problems was beyond her, and why he would care if she called or not was also beyond her.

At the same time, something was telling her that she should call him. There was a feeling stirring in her gut that was telling her that he wanted her to. That he would listen to her, and she wouldn't have to put on an act with him. This was someone who understood the world she lived in, and all the messed up shit that came with it. Spike had been there to listen sure, but it wasn't the same. She felt like no matter how much he tried, Spike would never understand what she was feeling. He would never be able to sympathize with the trials she was facing now. Buffy really didn't know what about this stranger made her think that he would, but she just had to trust her instincts. Even if they did tend to steer her wrong when it came to people of the male variety...

Just thinking about the mess she had come back to made her anxiety build up to the boiling point again. She was broke. Her basement was flooded. The roof needed new shingles. Her power was close to being shut off. In the first week home a demon had already broken into her house and tried to kill her. Giles was back, thank god, but he seemed to be keeping his distance, which gave her the sense that he wasn't planning on staying. That or he was unsure of her after she had come back from the dead. Even with that distance between them, whatever its cause, he never seemed to take his eyes off of her. It was as though he was afraid she would disappear if he blinked for too long.

This world was hard, and it served as a stark reminder of what she had lost. Heaven, or wherever she had been, had let her finally rest. She was happy and she was safe. There was nothing complicated about her life there. No battles or trials to face. She was complete. Here she didn't have any of those luxuries, and it seemed that everywhere she turned there was another fire to put out. Sometimes literally. To make it all seem worse, the only one that she had been able to talk to about this was Spike. She couldn't tell her friends, she knew it would break their hearts and that didn't make it any easier for her. Buffy was used to bearing burdens by herself, but this one seemed to be so much heavier than those in the past.

The thought of calling this Dean guy returned to her head. What harm could it do to call him, anyways? He did say to call, and he insisted that she should call whenever, and for any reason. Maybe just having the ability to talk to someone who didn't expect her to be strong all the time would help. She didn't have to bare her soul to him or anything, but it would be nice to talk to someone who didn't look at her like she may break at any second.

She finally let the call connect. Listening to the ringing of the phone quickened her heartbeat. In all the time she had spent trying to convince herself to allow the call to connect she hadn't figured out what she wanted to say. She couldn't exactly dive in with "so ya, I died half a year ago, and now life is really hard, and gee, I just want someone to talk to." Sure he knew that she had died, but she didn't need to harp on it, and no one liked a whiner. To be honest, she still wasn't even entirely sure why she was calling.

"Oh god, what am I doing," Buffy breathed.

The phone kept ringing, prolonging her suffering. Why couldn't he just answer, put her out of her misery? Or let the call drop so she could hang up knowing she had at least tried. She supposed she could just hang up herself, but that felt like a cop out. She finally made the move to call, she was committed now.

Suddenly a voice came through the phone.

"This is Dean's other, other cell so you must know what to do."

A combination of relief and disappointment flooded Buffy's mind. Apparently she had wanted to talk to Dean more than she had realized, but at the same time she had been spared what was sure to be a mortifying phone call.

"Uh, hey Dean. It's Buffy. The Slayer. From Sunnydale," Buffy rolled her eyes, hoping he wouldn't think she was a total spaz even though that's definitely what she sounded like. "You uh, said to call. Sorry I missed you. Hope everything's okay."

Buffy hung up, realizing that she didn't even say goodbye before hanging up. She didn't leave her number either, so she had to hope that her number wasn't a private one. Her message had been a total mess too. If that was how spastic her message sounded, she could only imagine what a whole conversation would have sounded like. Sometimes she really did wonder if her mouth was connected to her brain at all.

It had been a week since they had met, he probably didn't even remember who she was anyways. She wasn't anything special and guys that looked like that, that lived the hunter lifestyle, were bound to have a girl in each town. They would all be nameless and faceless once he left, of this she was sure. He'd probably never call her back. It was ridiculous to call him anyways. Or so she told herself.

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Buffy stormed out of the poker room, staggering as she went. Her jacket was half hanging off of her arms, but she didn't care. She didn't know if she was madder at Spike or herself, but either way it was time to go.

Spike was quick to follow, catching her on her shoulder causing her to spin around.

"What's wrong, luv?"

Buffy had her jacket on one arm now, completely abandoning any hope for retrieving the second sleeve for the time being. She was in a hopeless mess, which wasn't anything new.

"What's wrong?! You were gonna help me! You, you were gonna beat heads and, and, and fix my life! But you're completely lame! Tonight sucks!" Her jacket fell off completely now, hanging limply from her hand. "And, and look at me! Look at, look at stupid Buffy! Too dumb for college, and, and, and freak Buffy, too strong for construction work. And, and my job at the magic shop? I was bored to tears even before the hour that wouldn't end! And the only person I can even stand to be around is a-a neutered vampire who cheats at kitten poker."

She had finally managed to pull her jacket on and stood there with accusing eyes staring at Spike.

"Oh, you saw the cheating, did you?"

"Also? I think you're drunk," her words slurring as she spoke.

Buffy stomped out of the bar, hoping like hell she would manage to stay on her feet.

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Dean flopped back on the bed, arms splayed out above his head. They had been driving for nearly two days straight, and it was beyond nice to stop moving and be on a stationary surface for a while. His exhaustion was agonising, and his eyes felt like they had been splashed with acid they burned so badly. There wasn't any particular place they were trying to go, they just needed to put as much distance between that last case and them. The cops had started to take too much interest in the brothers, and they were not prepared to be under scrutiny. Sam had reminded him that they weren't sure if they were still on the 'most wanted' list, but finding out firsthand was not something that sounded terribly enjoyable to either of them. It was best to make themselves scarce, and that meant getting at least one state over, and fast. Of course that meant driving until they were practically asleep behind the wheel. Thank god they had found a motel when they did, even a dump like this one. Only hunters would find a dilapidated motel and be thankful.

He had heard his other, other cell phone ringing while driving. That cell had a completely different ringtone from any other cell the brothers ever had so that they would always know it was ringing. Normally he would drop everything to answer that call, knowing that it was Bobby or someone from the roadhouse, or even Dad. Dean knew it wasn't any of them, it couldn't be. Not anymore. As long as Sam was with him in the Impala, anyone else could wait.

"Aren't you gonna check the voicemail that was left?" Sam asked as came out of the washroom, towel drying his hair.

Dean shook his head, not bothering to sit up or even open his eyes. Being sunk into the mattress was far more important to him than dealing with any sort of conversation, at least for the time being. He was more than ready for a night of rest, or as close to a night of rest as a hunter got, anyways. His curiosity as to who had this number wasn't even piqued enough to warrant checking the phone. Whatever case was being called about could wait.

"Didn't you give that number to the Slayer? Buffy?"

Dean's eyes flew open. He had totally forgotten that was the number he had given her. How could he have forgotten that? Dean silently berated himself for being so stupid as he shot up from the bed and grabbing his jacket off of the floor. He fumbled with pockets until he managed to find and retrieve the cell phone. His fingers flew over the keys waiting to hear whatever message that was waiting for him.

"Uh, hey Dean. It's Buffy. The Slayer. From Sunnydale. You uh, said to call. Sorry I missed you. Hope everything's okay."

Fuck. He had missed her call! He had kept his phones nearly glued to his hand ever since they left Sunnydale, hoping to catch her phone call, a text message, even a voicemail. She finally calls, and not only did he miss the call, but he hadn't even planned on checking the voicemail. Hunters were trained to always answer their phones in case it was someone who needed their help, and he had fucked it up. What if she had been in trouble? Damnit.

"You gonna call her back? Or just stare at the phone?"

"Uh, I'm gonna go out. Get some air. Fuel up the Impala. Back in an hour or so," Dean slipped his jacket on and headed out of the room.

Both brothers knew he was going to make the phone call in private, Sam didn't need to call him out on it. Instead Sam sat down at his laptop and scrolled through news stories, looking for another case to pick up. Dean barely made it out of the room before placing the call.

The ringing seemed to go on forever, and Dean was starting to wonder if she was going to answer the phone at all. He leaned against the railing outside of the motel room door, listening carefully for any sign that she had picked up the call. Maybe it wasn't even her number, she could have borrowed someone else's phone. What if she had called needing help, and something had happened because he didn't answer his phone? All the panicked thoughts rolling through his head were overwhelming, and he found himself bouncing on his heels waiting for the tiresome ringing to stop.

Finally a voice picked up on the other end to put him out of his misery.

"Hello?"

Relief washed over him, and he found himself smiling at the sound of her voice.

"Hey Buffy. It's Dean. Sorry I missed your call, my brother and I have been driving all night."

"Oh, no worries. I'm actually more surprised that you called me back."

"Of course I did, why wouldn't I? So what's up?"

"Oh, I was just calling to…call I guess."

"You sure?"

The words 'look at stupid Buffy! Too dumb for college, and, and, and freak Buffy, too strong for construction work' replayed in her head. She already knew that her answer was going to be a lie. She had spent the day in a mess of a hangover because she had spent the night getting drunk with a vampire. Immediately after which she was so sick that she was pretty sure she turned right inside out, and that feeling had not yet gone away. That was not a story she was looking forward to sharing with anyone. It was mortifying that she could have acted so stupid, so reckless. This guy didn't want to hear her sob story anyways. Tears welled in her eyes, and she hoped that her voice would come out stronger than she felt right now.

"Yeah! Everything's great. Peachy with a side of keen."

Peachy with a side of keen. He had heard her say that before, when she was hiding her wound from him. She was lying to him now, too. He couldn't tell her how he knew that, but he didn't want her to feel like she needed to hide from him. She didn't know it, but they had been through a lot together. He wasn't going to let her pretend she was fine. Not with him. Not after everything.

"What's wrong?"

"I just said –"

"Ya, I heard what you said, but if I ain't buyin' it then you shouldn't be sellin' it."

Buffy sighed, "it's just been hard, readjusting to life here. Turns out that even while I was dead my life was able to fall to pieces." She laughed sarcastically as she finished her sentence.

He figured she meant more than what she was letting on, but he didn't want to pry too much. He knew that trust needed to be built. He just hated that it was the second time that he had to earn her trust.

Dean gave a knowing nod even though she couldn't see it, "I feel ya. You'll get it sorted out soon enough. In the meantime, is there anything I can do to help? I know I'm just a stinkin' hunter, but I do have some skills," Dean smirked as he spoke.

Buffy gave it some thought before answering, "know anything about re-shingling a roof?"

Dean laughed, "no, no I do not. Sorry."

"Damn. Saw that one coming though," she laughed back.

"If there's anything else though. Maybe some demons that need to be ganked?"

"Ganked?" She had never heard that term before.

"Ya know, killed. Slayed. How is the town anyways? Still throwing all kinda shit at ya?"

"It's been pretty quiet on that front, actually. Sort of. I don't know if that's good or not, but I'll take the breathing time."

"Sounds like you could use it," Dean said, a slight concern to his voice.

Buffy was ready to change the topic away from herself, "so what about you? How's things?"

"Doin' alright. Just wrapped up a case in Nevada."

"Ooh, what kinda case?" Her interest perked up. She felt much more comfortable discussing monsters and such than she did herself. She understood monster hunting a lot more than she understood life right now.

Dean thought over the case Sam and him and just wrapped up. It was a simple straight forward haunting, nothing too crazy. It did involve some good old fashioned breaking and entering, but that was nothing new. There was nothing remarkable about it, nothing noteworthy. He finally got the chance to discuss his cases with someone other than his brother, and it was one that wasn't really worth sharing. Typical.

"Nothing too exciting. Just a haunting. Didn't even have to burn any bones for this one," he said optimistically.

"What kinda lives do we live where an upside in our day is not having to burn bones" Buffy sighed whimsically.

She wasn't exactly sure what burning bones had to do with a haunting, but she wasn't about to admit that to a hunter. No matter what, she figured a day without burning bones was a good day. She imagined that the smell must be putrid, and she was sure she'd never get it out of her hair. A look of disgust crossed her face as she thought about the process of doing such a task. Yup, she was more than positive that was something she'd never do. There was always another way, and if the occasion ever came up, she would find that other way. Burning schools was one thing, but burning bones? Yuck.

"The same kinda life that makes a haunting case boring," Dean agreed on her sentiment.

"Seriously," Buffy gave a small laugh. "Anyways, why was the ghost stuck here?"

"Girl's boyfriend killed her. Buried her body in the backyard below where her kids swing set was set up."

"Sounds like a real great guy," Buffy scrunched her nose.

"Oh it gets better. He told the kid that his mom abandoned him, pretty much brainwashed the poor kid. He kept her locket, too. Some sort of a trophy or something. The locket and the kid were both enough to hold her here."

"Geez, I woulda stuck around too in that case. Did you get to help the kid?"

"Ya, we helped the cops prove that the boyfriend killed his mom. The kid was sent to live with his aunt, and the boyfriend is in jail. The mom finally crossed over, no bone burning required."

"Sounds like a happy ending. Makes it all worth it."

Dean grunted in agreement. He took a deep breath, "hey, I'm really glad you called."

Buffy smiled, "me too."

She found that she meant that statement more than she thought she would.

"Don't be a stranger, okay? You can call whenever. I promise I'll even answer next time."

"You shouldn't be a stranger either. Not like I have anything else to do with my time," Buffy gave a half-hearted laugh.

Dean chuckled, "sounds good. And Buffy?"

"Mhm?"

"You can call for any reason, I meant that. It doesn't have to be something supernatural related, okay? Whatever you need."

"Thanks, Dean. I'm gonna take you up on that."

"Buffy?" Dean heard another girls voice come through the phone.

"Hey Dean, I gotta go. Sister's callin' for me."

"Okay. We'll talk soon."

"For sure, take care Dean. Happy hunting!"

She rolled her eyes. "Happy hunting?" How could she manage to embarrass herself this much even over the phone? Buffy was glad that he couldn't see her as she had now turned about five shades of red. She was such an immense dork.

Of course Dawn noticed her red face when she came out of her room. Naturally. Damnit.

Dean hung up the phone and remained leaned against the railing for a moment longer. His heart was racing and his knees were a little weaker than he would have liked to admit. She was just a voice on the phone and it was enough to knock him on his ass. That girl was something special, man, and he knew he was in trouble with her. That recently kick-started muscle in his heart ached knowing that she was so far away still. Despite how great it felt to talk to her, he couldn't help but feel a tinge of despair. This wasn't what he had thought would be their relationship now that they were both back home.

Dean took a deep breath before pulling himself off of the railing. He crossed back across the walkway and into the motel room to find Sam sitting by the window. The curtain was suspiciously swaying though there was no breeze in the room, and Dean could see Sam's chest rising and falling at an accelerated rate.

"Did you get a hold of her?"

"Don't be shitty. How much did you hear?"

Sam put on an innocent face, "I don't know what you mean, Dean."

"Yeah, right."

Sam's eyes glistened with mischief as he did his best to hold that innocent expression. Dean couldn't help but laugh at the situation they found themselves in. It was like high school all over again when Sam would listen in on phone calls that Dean took from the girls from school. It was typical younger brother behaviour, and it felt like one of the few typical things they'd ever had back then. Now, for a moment it felt like they were just normal brothers on a normal road trip. Just for a moment.

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Buffy couldn't figure it out, but every time she spoke with Dean on the phone she felt at ease. It wasn't weird or full of awkward silences, and she never felt like it was an inconvenience to him that she had called. It was as though they had been talking for years, and not just the couple of weeks that it really had been. When he first entered her backyard she never would have expected to be talking to him every couple of days. Hell, she never expected to hear from him again at all. Now here they were, talking on the phone most days, as if it had been something they had always done. There was a comfort when she talked to him, like wearing your old favorite sweater or sipping hot chocolate on a cold day. This comfort found was more than just because she could talk to him about the mess her life was in. It was more than just understanding what it was like to fight against the supernatural. It was more than just having someone new to talk to. It had something to do with him, even if she couldn't identify the exact reason why.

She felt the most at ease while she was talking with Dean, and it wasn't long before it became her favorite part of her day. Of course, that wasn't saying too much considering most of her days consisted of attempting home repairs, putting on a brave smile for her friends, and killing undead things. It was pretty easy to rank higher than her daily tasks, but even still, her phone calls would have won out against most anything else. She looked forward to their conversations, and couldn't wait until it was the next time they were able to talk. It was the only part of the day where she felt peaceful. Dean didn't judge her. He didn't treat her like she may break at any moment. She didn't have to pretend with him. It was the only part of her day where she didn't have to be 'on.' It was like she could be 'just Buffy,' not the Buffy the Slayer, or Buffy the big sister, or Buffy the leader. Just Buffy. It felt really good.

It was nice to have something that was all hers, too. Something she didn't have to share or explain to anyone else. It wasn't that she was hiding him from her friends, not exactly anyways. She just didn't want to have to give details about it all quite yet, especially when she wasn't even sure what those details really were. She knew what her friends would think, what they would say. They always meant the best, but they would be nothing but skeptical about Dean. They would think it was fishy how he showed up in her life, and with her track record she couldn't exactly blame them either. She just didn't want it ruined yet. She'd tell them one day, she knew she'd have to, but for now this was the one part of her life that was private. Everything else about a Slayer's life had to be an open book, mostly for safety reasons, but this was one thing that didn't have to be. This was something for Buffy Summers, just the girl. He was like her safe place to land, so to speak. Buffy hadn't even programed his number into her phone; it became a number that she had memorized. He was just for her.

There was something in Dean's voice that told her that he felt the similar about the conversations. There seemed to be some sort of comfort in these little phone calls for him, too. It didn't seem to matter if it was ten minutes or an hour, they both seemed to feel lighter afterwards. She got the sense that, other than his brother, Dean didn't really have anyone to talk to in his life. She wondered how long it had been since he had talked to someone other than Sam who understood this life, someone who knew what lurked in the shadows. How long had it been since someone took an interest in what he had to say? Had really listened to him? She got the sense that Dean tended to be a closed book. Maybe she was crazy, but Buffy felt like he looked forward to these phone calls just as much as she did.

There was never really a specific reason for the phone calls, and they didn't really seem to ever be planned, despite how much she looked forward to them. Buffy would find herself absent mindedly dialing his number when she was alone, after the house had fallen quiet. Sometimes a pang of loneliness would drive her to call, or killing some monster would make her think of him, but generally it had become just a force of habit in a way. Like her day wasn't quite complete until she had checked in with Dean. It was a natural part of the day, like patrolling or checking on Dawn. Except this wasn't a responsibility. It was a joy. Even when she didn't call him, he would call her. It seemed like neither of them wanted to miss a day.

No matter how comfortable Buffy felt talking with Dean, she would still have to keep him at an arms-length away, kinda like her friends in a way. He was someone that couldn't know the truth. Could never know that she had ended up in heaven, and not the hell that everyone seemed to think she had been trapped in. She could never let him know just how lost and broken she truly was. She wished she could let that wall down, and if it was going to be with anyone she'd rather it be Dean, but she couldn't let it. Her friends had worked so hard to do this for her that she could never hurt them by revealing the truth. The weight of the secret was a lot to take, but Buffy would do so. For them. They loved her, and they thought they were doing right by her. She could never tell them that they had ripped her out of heaven. That this world was the hell they thought they saved her from.

No one could ever know.

While Buffy felt a compulsion to call Dean without really knowing why she did, Dean felt very differently about the phone calls.

Dean spent each day counting down until he could call her again. Dean would call Buffy every day if he could, but he didn't want it to become suspicious. He didn't want the built memories to come crumbling down, and he was afraid that he would be the cause of that. So instead, Dean had to invent reasons to call her sometimes. He was so grateful that Buffy had taken to calling him sooner than he would call her. Every time her name showed up on his phone's screen his joy was overwhelming and he could feel his heart beating up into his throat. Buffy calling him every day was different than him calling her every day. He couldn't be blamed if the memories crumbled because she kept calling him. Or so he liked to tell himself, but even Dean knew that the logic on that one was pretty shaky.

It wasn't the same as talking to the Buffy he knew in Purgatory, and he honestly didn't know how to feel about it all. In Purgatory Buffy was closed off, cold. She was so worried about her self-preservation that she felt like she had to keep her distance. Even towards the end, when the protective walls had started to fall, he could still sense a distance. She had been so prepared to lose him that she didn't want to get too close. He had looked forward to those walls being gone when they got back to the world. Now, she was the Buffy that she was before Purgatory, the Buffy he had been wanting to meet. The only problem was, she didn't know who he was. All their history, all their memories, stories, everything that had built their relationship was gone. And only he knew that.

It may not be what Dean had hoped for, but he enjoyed every minute that they talked on the phone. Even if the relationship was not what he wanted, he would still cherish it. Dean wished that the memory of him still existed, but he could work with this new situation. He would simply have to build up that relationship again. In a world as twisted and dark as Purgatory he had been able to gain her trust, so he was sure that he could do it again. Maybe they didn't share those memories anymore, but that was all that had changed. They were still kindred spirits. They still had lived similar lives. They still understood each other better than anyone else ever could. Dean just had to rebuild what Cas had torn away when he erased Purgatory.

Dean wasn't going to waste this opportunity. How often did someone get a second chance to win someone over?