Adam joined the chat
Dean: Hey, nutsack. Did you come back to steal more beer?
Adam: Yup
Steph: Nutsack?
Adam: I’m told that means I love you
Dean shivered as cold water dripped down the back of her neck. After Buffy had dragged her back to her room and lectured her on being nice, she felt like she had even more of a reason to blow off some steam, so she ended up running ten miles. Five miles in, it had started to rain, but she welcomed it. She smiled widely at the hotel clerk that gave her an annoyed look for dripping water all over the lobby floor, then decided to take the stairs instead of the elevator.
Once the door to her room was closed behind her, she peeled her wet clothes off and carried them into the bathroom to hang them on the shower curtain rod. It wasn’t until she finished getting dressed in something dry that she realized Meg wasn’t in the room. She snorted to herself and sent the former demon a text message. A few seconds later, the chorus for Wanted Dead or Alive began playing, and Dean muttered to herself as she picked up Meg’s phone. “Goddammit.”
By the time they got back to the hotel, Buffy felt like a live wire. She unlocked the door to the room she was sharing with Sam, dropping her purse and jacket near the closet. She bit her lip as she turned to face Sam and Faith, not sure what she was supposed to say or do.
Faith exchanged a small look with Sam.
Sam gazed back at her, blinking quickly as he read the look in the darker Slayer’s eyes, then gave a quick nod and stepped back, his hands resting on the buttons of his shirt in a death-grip.
Faith drew a deep breath and stepped forward into Buffy’s personal space, one hand resting on the smaller woman’s waist. Licking her own lips, Faith ducked her head a fraction and touched her mouth to Buffy’s.
Buffy stared at her menu and took another drink from the glass in front of her. “I still don’t know what I want.” She muttered. “Everything was easier before.”
Faith stared over her own menu at Buffy and gave her a half smile. “Easier how? When is anything easier for us?”
“I could actually fight demons and I had a bigger appetite, so I could eat eggs and pancakes instead of having to pick between them.”
“Order them both anyway, I’ll help you eat them,” Faith replied, sending a grin in Sam’s direction.
Sam raised his hands, smiling. “Don’t look at me, I’m not getting in the middle of this. I already know what I want, anyway.”
“Fine, but I’d actually rather have waffles than pancakes.” Buffy mused. She stuck her tongue out at Faith.
Faith winked at her. “Sam, your woman’s asking for it.”
Sam snorted, nudging Buffy in the side. “She tends to do that, sometimes.”
Buffy knocked on Faith’s hotel room door and bit her lip as she glanced around the hallway. “God, it’s like I’m on a spy mission or something. I’m such a dork.” She muttered to herself.
Faith pulled the door to her room open, then bit back a grin as she watched Buffy’s head swivel from side to side. Leaning against the doorjamb, she folded her arms and raised her eyebrows. “Problems, B?”
“No!” Buffy blurted. “Uh, I wanted to talk to you.”
Faith looked at Buffy’s face, then straightened, stepping back from the door and inviting the other woman in wordlessly. “About?”
Buffy walked into the room. “I talked to Sam about the possibility of… stuff.”
Dean rinsed out the bowl she had been using to eat ice cream, then turned off the water in the sink and frowned to herself.
Thomas sighed to himself as he slowly gathered the clothes and other sundry items that he had strewn all over his hotel room. Lara had called again to coldly inform him that his flight with Murphy would be leaving from Logan International promptly at three p.m. the next day with no delays (she was still slightly fuming that he’d hung up in her face and had haughtily informed him that whatever business he had would sadly have to be cut short, as she couldn’t give a damn about its importance).
Dean walked out of her room, pulling her hair back from her face with a ponytail holder. She still wasn’t very good at using a gun in this new form, but she was doing her best to stay in good shape, which meant running a few miles every day. She stretched her arms over her head as she waited for the elevator.
Thomas finally finished packing — well, he thought he did, anyway. If anything was left behind in the hotel room, the staff were welcome to it, honestly. At this point, he really couldn’t have cared less. Throwing the bags into the corner, he left the room, patting his jeans to make sure he still had his keycard with him, then shoved his hands into his pockets and walked away from his room, heading for the elevators. A slow walk around Boston wouldn’t hurt anything. It might even dull his aggravation and guilt.
Dean glanced over at the newcomer, then did a double take. “Oh. You.”
Dean: Hey
Meg: Hey!
Meg: Sorry. I was distracted.
Meg: What’s up?
Dean: Not a whole lot. You?
Meg shrugs
Meg: Nothing in particular, I guess…
Dean: That sounds like something to me.
Meg: It’s just Thomas.
Dean: What about him? Did he do something?
Meg: He’s just a jackass.
Dean: I coulda told you that.
Dean: I’d offer to beat the shit out of him, but that’s not gonna happen. I could maybe shoot him.
Meg: He got all mad at me for something that I have no control over and now he’s gonna go back to Chicago and just pretend the whole thing between us never happened or something.
Dean: You love him?
Meg: I don’t know.
Meg: I think I might, but fuck it.
Dean: No, that sucks.
Dean: All that talk everybody’s been doing about how Cas loves me and everything. You think people would have just let one of us leave the other one behind?
Meg: Well, whatever.
Meg: I’m falling for him but not vice versa so what can you do, right?
Dean: He’s a dick.
Meg: No, no, he’s not. I should have told him sooner, should have tried harder to show him what he means to me.
Meg: But apparently, he doesn’t mean anything to me, according to what my soul tells him.
Dean: Whatever that means.
Dean: Look, if you love him, then you love him. It doesn’t matter what he thinks about it.
Meg: I don’t even know, man. We did this thing called a ‘soulgaze’ and he saw into my soul. And apparently my soul is this bloody, empty desert with a single pool of water, and in that pool it shows all the people who I care about and he wasn’t there.
Meg: It sounds like a load of horseshit to me.
Dean: That’s not just you, then.
Meg: And he got all pissy because you and Castiel were apparently a heavy feature in the little slideshow…
Meg: Fuck it.
Meg: I can’t even understand him half the time.
Meg: And if he’s not gonna listen to me when I try to explain myself then I’m just gonna stop trying.
Dean: Wait, so he says that you’re lying about having feelings for him because he saw me and Cas in your head?
Meg: I’m sorry. I shouldn’t throw this on you. Just ignore me.
Meg: He says that apparently ‘he could never mean as much to me’ as you do.
Dean: That’s bullshit.
Meg: I KNOW! How come you get that, but he doesn’t?
Dean: Because he’s a wuss ass little bitch?
Meg: Hell, maybe he’s right.
Dean: All right, now you’ve lost me.
Meg: If he doesn’t believe me when I say I care about him, even after I’ve spent every single night and day with him, then maybe he’s not who I should be with.
Dean: Yeah, probably not.
Meg: Fuck it.
Meg: I need ice cream.
Dean: I’ve got a ton from Dawn and Adam. Come over here.
Meg: Awesome.
Thomas curled himself around Meg’s body, his lips pressed to her neck and his hand on her stomach. He nuzzled her, turning her over and onto her back as he hovered above her, and he settled himself between her legs, his face burying itself into the crook of her neck.
Meg let out a small, happy sigh and reached up to twine her hand in his hair, her legs wrapping themselves around his hips. It felt nice to be with Thomas; comfortable and safe and simple.
Thomas closed his eyes, his mouth pressing dizzying kisses to Meg’s throat as he slipped inside of her, one hand reaching down to wrap around Meg’s left thigh. He adored being with Meg. Her passion, her responses to his ministrations, her utter beauty — it made everything ten times more potent, more brilliant to him, and he wanted to savor every second of it.
Her breath came in short, gasping moans. It was incredible that even after they’d done this what felt like a thousand times —- they had very little else to do, after all —- Thomas still made her skin feel like fire and her body yearn to have him close. She lowered her head and nibbled lightly on his earlobe, her eyes closing as she shifted to make herself more open for him, to allow him to take as much as he wanted from her.
Dawnie joined the chat
Dean joined the chat 5 seconds ago
Dean: Hi.
Dawnie: Can we please go to the beach or something?
Dawnie: I’d hug you, but I’m scared I’m going to stick to you.
Dean: I don’t feel like going to the beach. Doesn’t this place have a pool?
Dawnie: Oh my god, you’re right. It’s on the roof.
Dean: Heh.
Dean: Dawn, your damn sister got some song stuck in my head.
Dawnie: I’m sorry :( What song?
Dean: I don’t know, something about the king of New Orleans.
Dawnie: Better than Ezra?
Dean: Yeah.
Dean: She keeps saying it reminds her of me and Cas. I was gonna tell her the song’s about a hooker but then I kinda realized that she might be right.
Dawnie: Oh stop it. I know what you’re thinking, you’re not a hooker. Or a whore, or a slut.
Dean: No, but I was for awhile. Sorta.
Dawnie: :( I don’t like it when you talk about yourself like that.
Dean: Well, it’s true.
Dean: Kinda weird, but I was in New Orleans when my dad disappeared and I had to get to Stanford to talk Sam into coming with me to find him in the first place.
Dawnie: Really? How did you avoid the hurricane? Storm shelter?
Dean: You know something? I’m not sure anymore that I did. Fucking angels kept bringing me back to life. Maybe I died there.
Dawnie: Oh, god!
Dawnie: Maybe it was Cas?
Dawnie: I want to think that it’s Cas. He’s always looked out for you, he always says so.
Dean: Yeah, he has.
Dean: I still don’t get why he’d want to be with a fuck up like me.
Dawnie: Because he loves you. He’s done everything for you, and you taught him so much. Cas might not be human most of the time, but he’s still a good man, and he can see the good in you, too.
Dawnie: Screw it, I’m risking the possibility of being glued to you.
Dawnie hugs Dean tightly.
Dean: There’s probably a lot of stuff you don’t know about me, Dawn.
Dean smiles.
Dawnie: I was best friends with a vampire who slaughtered an orphanage once, Dean.
Dean: Oh. Right.
Dawnie: Yeah. Whatever you’ve done, in your past, in your present, I can handle it :)
Dean: I’ve had sex for money. Indirectly, mostly. But not always. Usually it was waiting until the person was asleep and stealing whatever cash they had in their wallet or purse.
Dean: I’ve done all kinds of drugs.
Dawnie: Is that all?
Dean: I guess.
Dawnie: And were you expecting me to be disgusted?
Dean: A little bit. I am.
Dawnie: I’m not. Look… I love you. You’re… Heh, you’re an awesome big brother to me. You care so much that it hurts me inside when you hurt. Whatever you did, having sex for money, you did it to get money. It’s not like you get paid for hunting. And doing drugs — Dean, you’ve been hurt so many times in your life, I don’t think I could expect you to have gone any other way. Am I happy that you turned to drugs? No. But I’m glad that you aren’t on them anymore.
Dean: …
Dean: Cas can do better than me.
Dawnie: But the point is, Cas chose YOU.
Dean: I guess I’m freaking out, huh?
Dawnie: Kinda, yeah :) Is this about the wedding?
Dean: A little bit.
Dawnie: Is the other part the fact that you have a uterus right now?
Dean: Yeah, but I’m trying to pretend that’s not happening.
Dawnie: I’m sorry :( I know it’s my fault. It was my Keyness that made this all even happen.
Dean: It’s not your fault, Dawn.
Dean: It’s not so bad, anyway.
Dean: There’s good about it.
Dawnie: Like the fact that you can look Buffy in the eye and still stare her down?
Dean: Heh. Yeah, that’s one thing.
Dean: I don’t mind having boobs.
Dawnie giggles
Dawnie: They can be kind of awesome sometimes.
Dean: Besides, I’m hot. ;)
Dawnie: LOL, yeah. You are. You’re definitely one of the prettiest girls I’ve ever seen, Dean :)
Dean: Thanks.
Dean joined the chat
Dawnie joined the chat
Dean: Hey, Dawn.
Dawnie: Hi :)
Dawnie: What’s up?
Dean: I think I’m dying.
Dawnie: Oh no :(
Dawnie hugs Dean.
Dean hugs back.
Dawnie: What’s the problem?
Dean: I have cramps.
Dawnie: Uh-oh.
Dean: Right? So even if they’re not serious, I’m just gonna shoot myself.
Dawnie: Nooo. No shooting yourself. Don’t… don’t even make jokes about that, please.
Dean: Sorry.
Dawnie: It’s… it’s okay. But… you know. Bad experiences with guns and stuff.
Dawnie: To be honest, I’m sort of amazed at how calm I am around them now.
Dean: Oh yeah, your sister told me that crossbow story.
Dawnie: I didn’t mean to hit the cat!
Dean: In retrospect, you probably did that cat a favor. Willow seems like a bitch.
Dawnie: She wasn’t all the time. I mean, she took care of me while Buffy was dead.
Dawnie: Then again, she’s the one who omitted the fact that she was gonna resurrect Buffy in the first place.
Dawnie: But yeah. The cat and guns remind me of Tara. Tara’s the one who really took care of me.
Dean: I’m not saying shit about that. You know what I’ve done.
Dawnie: I know.
Dawnie: And I know what Buffy did.
Dawnie: I mean… I wouldn’t be talking to you right now if it wasn’t for Buffy telling Tessa to screw off in the first place. It’s just that Willow never said a word. She kept the whole thing a secret, and the only ones who didn’t know were me, Giles, and Spike.
Dean: Yeah, that sounds kinda shitty to me. Big difference between spur of the moment choice and months of planning.
Dawnie: Right?
Dean: I feel kinda bad for Tessa, though. Don’t tell Buffy that or she’ll kick my ass. But she’s got rules she’s gotta follow, and I learned that the hard way.
Dawnie: I won’t tell Buffy.
Dawnie: But you know why Buffy hates Tessa, right? Tessa wasn’t exactly polite to Buffy.
Dean: Yeah.
Dawnie: Blah, anyway.
Dean: This sucks ass.
Dawnie: Want me to find you a heating pad?
Dean: Yeah. Meg brought me Midol but couldn’t find me one of those things.
Dean: Seriously, just suffocate me with a pillow. It’ll be fine.
Dawnie: Okay.
Dawnie: I mean, okay about the heating pad
Dawnie: Not the pillow suffocation.
Dean: All right.
Dawnie: Don’t try to do it to yourself either.
Dean: Pretty sure I can’t suffocate myself.
Dawnie: Well… whatever. I found the heating pad, hold on.
Dean: Why am I watching a video of a kitten?
Dawnie: Because you’re Dean, but you’re a girl now and girls are inherently drawn to cute no matter what?
Dean: I’m gonna reblog it.
Dawnie: Okay.
