Shades of gray- Story 2 {BtVS/Supernatural}

13. All's well that ends well

A/N: Nope, characters still aren't mine. But here's some smoochies and smutty goodness!

Buffy loaded napkins into the dispenser at work, her mind wandering to Sunnydale and to Ricky and Lilly; she wondered how Lilly was managing and what she was doing now. She didn’t even hear the bell above the door chime as it opened or pay any mind to the person who approached the bar until she heard that voice. The voice she heard in her dreams, the voice that belonged to the person she’d watched drive out of sight, breaking her heart again only a few months before, the voice that still made her heart race.

“I’ll have a bacon cheeseburger with extra onions, and you got any pie?” Dean asked and Buffy jerked her head up sharply, her breath catching at the wary smile he gave her. “Hey princess,” he said softly, and she was torn between wanting to do twenty things at once ranging from crying, yelling, grabbing him in a hug and kissing him senseless or smacking him one.

“Dean? What are you doing here?” She whispered finally, setting the dispenser down on the counter.

“Well I was in the neighborhood,” he answered with a nonchalant shrug to which she just raised her eyebrows skeptically. “Okay so I wasn’t. But hey, I’m here now. Happy to see me?” He searched her eyes for any lingering hostility she harbored toward him for the way things had gone down the last time he’d been in L.A. He and Sam had gone on a few hunts with their dad and he’d decided to come back to check on her. She didn’t know it, but the friend who’d let her stay in her apartment was keeping tabs on her for him and had called Dean only a few days ago. He’d worried when he heard about her getting mixed up with some girl named Lilly and had practically burned rubber trying to get back to make sure she was alright. At first he hadn’t intended to let her know he was in town, but as he watched her at work and in her apartment, he said to hell with undercover and couldn’t bear to stay away from her any longer.

“Yeah, I am.” She answered his question, bringing him back to the present. She glanced behind him, no doubt looking for Sam and turned her mossy green eyes back to his.

“Sam’s at the hotel; he said he’d see you later.” Dean explained, reaching out to toy with the salt shakers. He was trying to decide on the best way to broach the subject that had resulted in him leaving her here in L.A.

“Oh, okay. How long are you guys in town?” She asked, putting the napkins below the counter, anything to tear her gaze away from the one person she wanted to kiss senseless and forget all the reasons why she should hate him. She struggled to make her voice even, to not betray the emotions she felt at him being so close to her.

“Not sure yet. When do you get off?” He sat back in the stool, watching her busy herself to avoid looking at him. At his question she glanced up at the clock on the wall, then smiled and pulled off her apron, folded it and set it on a shelf below the counter.

“Five minutes ago,” she smiled and smoothed her hair, then grabbed her coat and purse. She walked out from behind the bar, and he stood as she approached. He looked about an inch taller and a little more rugged, she noticed as they headed for the door of the diner. He held it open and gave her a once-over of his own, seeing that there was more color to her face now and that the numbness that had started to seep in after Sunnydale was starting to fade. He didn’t miss that the name on her uniform said ‘Anne’ instead of her own. But that made sense though, she’d gone to L.A. to escape in the first place, it seemed only natural that she was using an alternate name.

Her apartment was just around the corner so they walked the short distance, their hands hanging at their sides and just barely avoided brushing against each other. She unlocked her door and went in, and Dean followed. The place was pretty simple, and he looked around while she went to change out of her uniform and into more comfortable clothing. He walked toward her bedroom just as she pulled open the door and his eyes roamed over her jeans and v-neck gray tee. God he wanted to kiss her right then, bury his hands in her hair and never let go. He had to stuff them into his jacket pockets to keep them from obeying his lustful whims.