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Fic: June Eighteenth, PG, SPN/Buffyverse - Fire Fic Creations for Renee's Fund
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Other Pervert posting in Fire Fiction Multifandom Charity Fic and Art
User: fire_fiction (posted by otherpervert)
Date: 2007-11-13 12:23
Subject: Fic: June Eighteenth, PG, SPN/Buffyverse
Security: Public

Title: June Eighteenth
Author:

otherpervert 
Fandom:
SPN/Buffyverse
Rating: PG
Characters: Spike, Sam, Dean
Summary: Where there’s a will and a snarky, bleached vampire, there’s a way.
Word Count: 1,172
Spoilers: AHBL 2 for SPN, through the end of S5 Angel for Buffyverse
Disclaimer: I’m not Whedon or Kripke. If I were there would be more nudity.
Feedback: Very welcome, here or at otherpervert (at) aol.com
Fic Notes: June 18th, after much research, is a guess on the date that Dean made his Crossroads deal.
A/N: Written for yourlibrarian  for a donation at fire_fic  and posted with her permission. Thank you so much for your generous donation for Renee and her family!

 

 

 

Friday, March 28th, 2008 - 11:49 p.m. 
Eighty-Two Days

It was a bar like they had been in hundreds of times before - except that this time ‘they’ weren’t. This time, Sam was warily eyeing his companion and wishing for the comforting, if recently overbearing, presence of his older brother.

Spike sipped his beer and stared evenly back. It was a miracle that this kid had even managed to track him down, but since he had - and it was rumored that the boy was heir to the throne down below - he couldn’t see being on the little prince’s good side as a bad thing. Problem was, the kid was just staring.

Spike sighed.

Sam shifted.

The record on the jukebox flipped over and though the only speaker that was working, a tinny Shania Twain song began to play.

"Alright, then," Boy-King or no, Spike was getting bored, "As wonderful as this place is, champagne of beers and Shania on the radio an’ all, I doubt you tracked me 500 miles for a night out."

Sam sighed again and leaned forward to rest his forearms on the table, "Sorry. I’m just… trying to figure out if this is one of my more bone-headed ideas."

Quirking an eyebrow, Spike took another sip of his beer, "And which idea would that be, junior?"

"Africa."

Spike froze for a second and looked at the boy with renewed interest, "Love place, quite hot, I prefer the Bahamas if I’m goin’ to risk all that sun. What of it?"

Eyes searching the vampire’s face intently, Sam’s words were slow and careful, "Is it true you… can restore someone’s soul? Get it back for them?"

Leaning back in his chair and rocking on the two back legs, Spike blew out a low whistle, "Well, well… misplace something, have we?"

The rumors about the Winchesters had flown fast and furious since the opening of the Hellmouth in Wyoming that everyone thought to be permanently out of business. This was a hell of a new development.

"No, not mind. Someone else’s."

The answer came so quickly, Sam’s expression so fearful, and then in a blink it was gone and the boy’s face was neutral again. Spike stared for a moment before slamming the front legs of his chair back down to the floor, garnering a dirty look from the stout man behind the bar which Spike chose to ignore, "Alright - straight answers. You tell me exactly what it is that’s goin’ round in that head of yours and I might tell you where in Africa you need to be."

Sam stared back until Spike was sure he wouldn’t answer, but then he picked up his glass and drank down nearly half of it, "Okay."

 

Tuesday, April 1st, 2008 - 1:19 a.m.
Seventy-Nine Days

"You’re all set. Just remember what I told you - be real specific. If you’re not, he’ll take it as an invitation to interpret creatively."

Sam shifted the bag slung over his shoulder nervously and studied the large cargo ship he’d be boarding, "Specific. Got it," He looked back at Spike, "And you’ll - "

"I’ll keep an eye on him, don’t worry, pet. Just remember - "

"I know, I know. Specific," Sam grinned, "I studied at Stanford, I’ll make sure it’s airtight."

Spike rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath, "At least it wasn’t UC Bloody Santa Cruz…"

"What?"

"Nothing," Shaking his head, the blonde produced a cigarette from his pocket and lit it before speaking to Sam again, "Are you sure you want to leave on April 1st? That’s asking for bad luck, that is."

Sam sighed and nodded, "This should buy me a day. He’ll be just curious enough about what kind of prank I’m playing to not start searching for me hardcore until sundown." Sam turned to look at the boat again as someone shouted over the side down to them, "Guess that’s my cue."

They stared at each other silently for a few moments before Sam turned and walked up the gangplank.

Spike watched him until he disappeared into the ship and then flicked away his cigarette, "Christ."

 

Thursday, April 3rd, 2008 - 9:22 p.m.
Seventy-Seven Days

Leaned back in his chair, the vampire studied the young man tied to the one across from him. He’d certainly put up a hell of a fight. And he was a mouthy little shit, to be sure. It was why Spike was considering nominating duct tape as the greatest wonder of the modern world.

"So, then. I’m going to wager a guess that you want to know where your brother is?" He tapped his pack of cigarettes against the table, "Sure you don’t want one of these?"

Spike grinned at the muffled curses that were trapped behind the gag and the hateful glare Dean Winchester had fixed him with, "I’ll take that as a no." He paused to light his own and blew the smoke out across the table at Dean, "What have you heard about the Demon Trials? See, they’re out near the Tibesti Mountains in Chad… That’s in Africa, by the way."

 

Thursday, June 19th, 2008 - 12:06 a.m.
Minus Four Minutes

Despite the fact that she’d already been to see him weeks ago, shouted curses and expletives that even Spike had to admire, Dean spent the entire day twitchy. When the clock rolled over past midnight, Spike watched him trash a hotel room in a way that any rock star would be proud of.

When Dean had finished he stood in the middle of the chaos, chest heaving and eyes darting the room before settling on the vampire, anguish clouding his vision. His voice cracked, "If he’s dead, I’ll kill you."

 

Wednesday, June 25th, 2008 - 2:47 a.m.
Minus Seven Days

Spike faded back into the doorway as he watched Dean first take a swing at Sam and then pull his brother down onto the floor with him and wrap around him. They were both talking, fast and stuttering words, slamming into each other like the electric cars at a fair.

He watched silently until Sam’s words had turned into sobs and Dean’s words had turned into nothing, and then slipped out the door. It had taken Sam longer to arrive back in the states than even he had thought it would, but in the intervening time Dean had grudgingly agreed to continue hunting with the vampire - once he’d found out that there was no way he could follow Sam.

Spike might have already written Sam off as dead if it hadn’t been for the look in his eyes when he'd boarded the boat in New York.

Pausing at the Impala parked outside, Spike turned and leaned on the hood as he watched the pair through the window. They were both alive. Both in possession of their souls, to the best of his knowledge. Shaking his head he lit a cigarette and muttered under his breath as he pushed off the car and into the night. 



 

I sought my soul, but my soul I could not see. I sought my God, but my God eluded me. I sought my brother and I found all three. -Author Unknown

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river: dean consort
User: rivers_bend
Date: 2007-11-13 19:31 (UTC)
Subject: (no subject)
Keyword:dean consort
I love this as an idea for a deal breaker. And Spike tying Dean up? *g*

thank you for sharing this with us!
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yourlibrarian: DestinySamDean-obaona
User: yourlibrarian
Date: 2007-11-15 03:07 (UTC)
Subject: (no subject)
Keyword:DestinySamDean-obaona
Oh, I love that closing quote. If that doesn't sum Sam up this season!

What a clever fic idea! Love the idea of using the trials as a way of solving Dean's deal. And also interesting to think of Spike and Dean hunting together in the meantime. Talk about tension ;>
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