Skin (Part 2)

Disclaimer: I, unfortunately, own neither Buffy or Supernatural. They both belong to their respective geniuses, Joss and Kripke. I'm just borrowing them for a while for my own entertainment. If the boys were mine, lemme tell ya, they wouldn't be traveling the country fighting stuff. I'd find a few uses for them in my own house... Heh, j/k (but not really). This episode is pretty word for word from the Supernatural episode “Skin.” Transcripts taken from twiztv.

Thanks so much ChloeWinchester, kribby, GothTroubleMaker, twinsie, SilentAngel, and KnightOwl for your lovely reviews! I'm glad you're liking this little series so far!

On to part 2 of “Skin!”

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She was awoken the next morning by Sam nudging a large cup of coffee into her hands and instructing her to get dressed. Sitting up and rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she gave him a grateful smile before rolling out of bed and pulling on a pair of baggy green cargo pants and a black leather jacket over her tank top. Hearing the shower running and noticing Dean's absence, she sat down in the chair by the window, waiting for him to get out of the shower so that they could go. A few minutes later, the water stopped and he emerged from the steamy bathroom, wearing only a pair of low-slung jeans. Smirking at her when she saw the way her gaze was drawn to his bare chest, he slipped on a gray t-shirt, a brown and black over shirt, and a blue jacket before accepting a cup of coffee from his brother.

“Let's go,” Sam ordered, and Buffy followed the two out of the room and into the Impala, sliding into the back seat and taking a sip from her cup. A few minutest later they arrived at their destination, the drive over filled with Sam's directions and Dean's complains about being woken up so early. With a squeak of the car's door, she stepped onto the curb, noticing that they were parked behind Zack's house.

“Alright,” Dean started, leaning against the hood of his car and taking a sip of his drink. “What are we doing here at five thirty in the morning?”

“I realized something,” he started, dropping his empty cup into a nearby dumpster and walking closer to the house to snoop around. “The video tape shows the killer going in, but not coming out.”

“So he came out the back door?” Buffy asked, covering her mouth as a particularly large yawn forced its way out of her mouth. Hopping onto the hood of the car, she crossed her legs, clutching her coffee cup and watching Sam as he kicked something on the ground in front of him.

“Right, so there should be a trail to follow. A trail the police would never pursue.”

“Cause they think the killer never left,” Dean added, nodding. “And they caught your friend Zack inside.” There was a pause before he groaned and took a small sip from his cup. “I still don't know what we're doing here at five thirty in the morning.” Rolling her eyes at him amusedly, Buffy hopped off of the hood and deposited her empty cup in the same dumpster that Sam had before walking over to him.

“Hey look,” she said, noticing a phone pole with a bloody hand print and pointing at it. Sam looked over at her, walking closer to examine it.

“Blood. Somebody came this way.” Dean frowned, surveying the area from where he was leaning against his baby.

“Yeah, but the trail ends. I don't see anything over here.” Suddenly, an ambulance drove past them, sirens blaring, and the three exchanged a look before getting into the car and speeding after it. It stopped a few blocks away, and Dean killed the engine, following Buffy and Sam to a small crowd in front of a tall apartment building.

“What happened?” Buffy asked the pretty black woman next to her. “What's going on?”

“he tried to kill his wife,” she answered, pointing to an Asian man who was being cuffed and led toward a police car. “Tied her up and beat her.”

“Really?” Sam said from her side, placing a hand on the small of her back to propel her forward a few steps.

“I used to see him going to work in the morning. He'd wave, say hello. Seemed like such a nice guy.” The woman lapsed into silence as the man entered the squad car, and it pulled away, speeding down the street toward the police station. Jerking her head in the direction of the car, she walked over to it, Sam right on her heels.

“Alright, so it's got to be the same thing...” Buffy started when she was out of earshot of the others. “This can't be a coincidence.” A second later, Dean walked up to them, stopping next to the Slayer.

“Hey, remember when I said this wasn't our kind of problem?” he asked, and Sam nodded. “Definitely our kind of problem,” he continued with a weird gesture of his hand, turning toward Buffy.

“What happened?” she asked, scooting back so that she was leaning against the side of the Impala.

“Well, I just talked to the patrolman who was first on the scene, heard this guy, Alex's story.” He jerked his hand toward the front of the house before continuing. “Apparently this dude was driving home from a business trip when his wife was attacked.”

“So, he was two places at one,” Sam responded immediately, a thoughtful look on his face.

“Exactly!” he said, smiling excitedly at the fact that he had found out something useful. “Then he sees himself in the house, police think he's a nutjob.”

“Dark doubles attacking loved ones in the exact same way...” He trailed off, trying to put the pieces together.

“Shapeshifter?” Buffy piped up, remembering something that Giles had once said about the creatures. Briefly, his face flashed behind her eyes, but she shook her head, pushing all thoughts of her previous life to the back of her mind. That wasn't a door she was willing to open just yet. “Something that can make itself look like anyone. They're human... evolved past what a normal human can do.” Sam looked at her, impressed, and she gave him a small smile.

“Every culture in the world has a shapeshifter lore,” Dean supplied helpfully. “You know legends of creatures who can transform themselves into animals or other men.” Sam nodded, still deep in thought. “We've got two attacks within blocks of each other. I'm guessing it's the same thing that's doing it.”

“C'mon,” Buffy ordered, creeping closer to the house now that the police and curious onlookers had cleared the scene. Stealthily skirting around the building to the back, she quickly surveyed the area, not seeing anything out of the ordinary.

“Let me ask you this,” Sam asked, clearly thinking the same thing, “in all this shapeshifter lore, can any of them fly?”

“Not that I know of,” Dean answered with a frown and shrug.

“The trail suddenly ends. I mean, whatever it is just disappeared.”

“Uh guys,” Buffy stated, pointing toward a manhole a few feet away. “Could have gone down there.” The three exchanged a look before walking over to the metal grate, Sam lifting it up before dropping into the hole and looking around. Dean jumped down to join him, but Buffy opted to stay above grown in order to warn them if anyone was coming. A few minutes later, the two resurfaced, both with disgusted looks on their faces. “What?”

“It sheds.” Dean didn't move to elaborate, and she raised an eyebrow at him. Whatever was down there must have been pretty gross if it could phase him. She gave Sam a concerned look at his look of nausea, but he waved a hand at her, letting her know that he would be fine. Following the brothers back to the car, she watched as Dean opened the secret compartment in the trunk before filling three cartridges with...

“Silver bullets?” she asked, and Dean nodded, sliding the cartridge into a small handgun and handing it back to her, his head still buried in the trunk. She raised an eyebrow at him before taking it hesitantly.

“One thing I learned from Dad... No matter what kind of shapeshifter it is, there's one sure way to kill it.”

“Silver bullet to the heart,” Sam answered, nodding. Just then, his phone rang and he fished it out of his front pocket before giving them a “just a second” gesture and answering it.

“Um, Dean?” He looked up from his trunk so that he could look at her. “You know that me and guns are unmixy. I'll probably end up shooting you or Sam instead of the shapeshifter.” He let out a small chuckle before reaching a hand out to tuck a strand of blond hair behind her ear that the wind had blown into her face.

“You'll be fine. You have that whole Slayer thing going on for ya.” She made to argue, but was only able to nod, completely caught up in the moment they were having. Until she heard Rebecca practically yelled at Sam through the phone.

“Well, look, Sam, just stop. Cause I really don't need your help anymore.” Buffy frowned, walking over to where the younger Winchester was standing a few feet away so that she could hear the girl better.

“What are you talking about?” Sam asked, furrowing his brows in confusion and shrugging when Buffy tilted her head to the side, wondering what was going on.

“I told the lawyers that we went to the crime scene.” The Slayer's eyes widened in shock, and Sam let out a nervous laugh. This couldn't end well.

“Why would you do that?” The blond rolled her eyes. Great. Make her feel like she had done something wrong. Good plan, Sam. Just brilliant.

“Well,” came the other girl's voice, “I told them that we were with a police officer. And they checked it out, and they told me that there is no Detective Dean Winchester.”

“Bec-...” Sam started, but was quickly cut off.

“No! I don't understand why you would lie to me about something like that!”

“We're trying to help-...” he tried again, but was once again interrupted by the fuming blond on the other end of the line.

“Oh, trying to help?” she practically yelled, causing Sam to wince and hold the phone away from his ear. “Do you realize that that was a sealed crime scene? This could just have ruined Zack's case!”

“Bec, I'm sorry, but...” Again he was interrupted. Buffy could tell he was getting frustrated.

“No! Goodbye, Sam.” The brunet frowned as she hung up on him, and Dean walked over, clapping a hand on his disappointed brother's shoulder.

“I hate to say it, but that's exactly what I'm talkin' about.”

“Dean,” Buffy warned, but he ignored her and kept going.

“You lie to your friends because if they knew the real you, they'd be freaked. It's just – it's be easier if-...”

“If I was like you,” Sam finished with a frown, glancing over at the tiny blond standing next to him.

“Hey, man, like it or not, we are not like other people,” Dean continued, but Buffy shook her head.

“I wouldn't be alive if it wasn't for my friends,” she said, giving him a look. “Not just this time. They've saved my life more times than I can even remember.”

“Well, you were different,” he argued, causing her to roll her eyes at his persistence. “You were friends with two Slayers, a Watcher, a witch, a werewolf... We didn't have anyone who understood us.” Buffy made to argue right back but instead shook her head and threw her arms up into the air, deciding that it wasn't worth it. “But I'll tell you one thing,” he added, turning toward Sam. “This whole gig... it ain't without perks.” Giving his little brother a smirk, he handed him a gun of his own, and Buffy watched as he slipped it into the waistband of his jeans, careful to hide it under his jacket, before following him and Dean to the manhole around the back of the house and down the ladder. She made a face at the wet concrete floor and distinct sewer smell, watching as the boys took out their flashlights. That was the life of a Slayer; crawling around in filthy sewers to find clues. At least she didn't need a flashlight.

“I think we're close to its lair,” Dean announced after over an hour of searching. An hour of smelly green sewer water, moldy stone walls, and rats. Dean had freaked out at the first rat they had seen, jumping backwards and screaming like a girl, sending both Buffy and Sam into a fit of giggles, which Sam would vehemently deny when asked about it later, that lasted several minutes. Buffy sighed. Finally. It seemed like they had been walking for miles.

“Why do you say that?” Sam asked, holding his flashlight close to his face and squinting into the darkness, pointing his gun in front of him and trying to see what Dean was seeing.

“Because there's another puke-inducing pile next to your face.” The younger Winchester looked to the right before jerking back a foot or so and smacking into Buffy, who jumped back in surprise.

“Oh, God!” Following his gaze to the large pipe attached to the wall at eye-level, a look of utter disgust slid over her face when she saw the large pile of skin and fat.

“Ew... Ew ew.” Dean gave her an “yeah, I know,” look before re-raising his flashlight and scouring the area.

“Looks like it's lived here for a while,” he observed, gesturing toward a pile of clothes and yet another blob of the thing's shedings with his gun.

“Who knows how many murders he's gotten away with...” Sam pondered, and Buffy glanced back at Dean, her eyes widening when she saw the Asian man they had seen being escorted from his apartment a few hours ago directly behind him, his eyes flickering in the light of Sam's raised flashlight.

“Dean! Watch out!” she yelled, but it was too late. In the blink of an eye, the shapeshifter had sent a punch to his jaw before turning tail and running away, effectively evading the few shots that Sam fired. Knowing that he would be able to take care of his brother without her assistance, the Slayer sprinted after it, rounding the corner only to see its feet disappear above ground through another manhole. Quickly scaling the ladder, she emerged from the sewer, looking around but seeing no trace of the shapeshifter. Night had fallen and there were several people milling about on the street, some hand in hand, others hurrying home in time for dinner. “Shit!” she swore, feeling, rather than seeing, Sam and Dean come up behind her.

“Anything?” Sam asked, and she shook her head, frustrated. “All right, let's split up.” With a nod, Buffy headed off to the right, leaving the brothers to find their own way. Slipping inconspicuously into a large group, she swept the deserted side streets and alleys, not finding so much as a footprint to point to where the shapeshifter had gone. She wandered around for a while longer, keeping her eyes peeled for any signs of the baddie she had been chasing, before pulling out her cell phone and seeing that it had been almost an hour. An hour without any word from Sam or Dean. Well, that couldn't be good. Flipping the phone open, she pressed speed dial number 2, Dean's cell, and waited a few seconds with the phone pressed to her ear, breathing a sigh of relief when he answered.

“Buffy?” But they were chasing a shapeshifter, after all.

“How did you meet me?” she asked, knowing that only Dean and Sam would know the answer to that question.

“What?” came his confused reply, but she refused to buckle.

“How did you meet me?” There was a moment of silence before he answered.

“We were passing through... Sunnydale, I think, on a job. Found you cowering in an alley... You had just been brought back from... wherever you were.” She looked down. She had never told them. They'd done so much for her, but she just couldn't bring herself to tell them where she had been. Where she'd been ripped away from. “You didn't want to go back to your friends, so we took you with us.” He was right. Her eyes glazed over for a few seconds as her brain relived the memory, but she quickly snapped out of it, nodding before realizing that he couldn't see her.

“Alright,” she said, looking around for any sign of him. “No point in chancing it. Where are you guys?”

“We followed the thing to Rebecca's place, but it got away before we could kill it,” he answered, once again snapping into business mode. “We think it was trying to hurt her because it knew that she sent us after it. We're over here checking on her at the moment.”

“Oh, alright.”

“The motel's not too far from where we split up,” he continued, and Buffy looked around, recognizing where she was. It was about ten minutes or so to the left. Silently thanking the Powers that Be for Slayer direction, another one of the many perks of her line of work, she started off in that direction. “Why don't you grab something to eat and head back. I should be back in an hour or so.”

“Okay,” she agreed, veering to the opposite side of the street to enter a small diner. She hadn't noticed how hungry she had been, but now that she knew that the two were safe, it seemed to catch up with her.

“Gotta go. She's yelling at Sam.”

“Alright, I'll see you soon.” Smiling slightly at the image of Dean running interference between Rebecca and his little brother, she snapped her phone closed, slipping it into her front jeans pocket and ordering a burger to go. A few minutes later, she was on her way back to the motel, a small brown paper bag clutched in her hand, the smell of her burger and fries making her stomach growl. Approaching their room, she fished the key out of her pocket, sliding it into the lock and pushing the door open, before dropping her food onto the small table and peeled off her jacket, throwing it onto her bed before sitting down in the slightly uncomfortable chair. After polishing off her impromptu dinner, she stripped off her clothes and walked into the bathroom, knowing that she had time to take a shower before Dean got there. Stepping under the hot spray, she started to hum an old Metallica song she had heard the previous day in the Impala, and quickly stopped herself, shaking her head amusedly. Apparently Dean's music had found a way to seep into her brain. Washing her hair and body, still feeling slightly unclean because she had been walking through the sewer all day, she stepped out, gasping softly as the cool air bathed over her flushed skin. She wrapped herself in a fluffy white towel and reentered the bedroom, just barely pulling on a pair of jeans, one of Sam's shirt, which was insanely big on her, but comfortable all the same, and a comfortable pair of sneakers before Dean walked in.

“Hey,” he greeted, shooting her his trademark grin to which she responded with a smile of her own. “We explained to Rebecca about the shapeshifter. She was worried that it might come back, so Sam's going to spend the night with her.” He smirked, picturing his little brother with his college buddy and sliding his jacket and over shirt from his shoulders. “I'm gonna go take a shower. Get the sewer smell off of me.”

“Alright.” Watching as he disappeared through the bathroom door and the water turned on, she sat down on her bed and leaned up against the headboard after fluffing up the pillows. A few minutes passed, and she fidgeted, her nervous energy catching up with her. She was bored. She hadn't Slayed anything in days, and it was getting to her. “Dean?” Buffy called, walking over to the thin wooden door and rapping on it with her knuckles.

“Yeah?” he called back over the spray of the water.

“I'm going to go kill some stuff,” she informed him. “Haven't dusted any vamps in a while, and it's making me all fidgety. I'll be back in half an hour or so.”

“Yeah alright,” came his reply. Not bothering to put on a jacket, she grabbed a few stakes and the room key, sliding the key into her pocket and tucking the stakes in the waistband of her jeans, and headed off into the darkness, easily fining the nearest cemetery. She circled it a few times, finding no signs of evil, but on the third lap, she saw a newly-risen vampire clawing its way out of a freshly covered grave. “Yahtzee.” She frowned a few seconds later, having dusted it in one try. It hadn't even put up a fight. Darn. She circled the graveyard once more, getting slightly annoyed at the energy buzzing through her veins, finally calling it a night fifteen minutes later. Reentering the hotel room, she saw Dean laying on the bed she had previously been occupying, clad in only a pair of dark jeans. Yum, her mind supplied.

“Hey,” he greeted, looking up from where he was flipping through John's journal. “Find anything nasty to slay?” She sighed and flopped down on the end of the bed, looking at him upside down through her eyelashes.

“Noooo,” she pouted, causing him to smirk at her and drop the journal on the bedside table. “Well, there was one, but it didn't even put up a fight.” He laughed and shooched closer to her, dropping a chase kiss on her lips in a perfect imitation of the Spiderman kiss. “Now I have all this energy, and I don't know what to do with it.”

“I think I have an idea,” he teased, causing Buffy to laugh lightly as he swept her up in his arms and placed her gently on his lap. They hadn't had alone time since that first night, and she was fully planning on taking advantage of it. For some inexpiable reason, she knew that she could trust him with her life, something that she rarely came across in her line of work. Sure, she was attracted to him. He was absolutely gorgeous. She liked him, but that wasn't the only reason. Since being ripped from Heaven, every day was a struggle. Some days, she would lay in bed, staring into the darkness and thinking about how her life had been. She had friends, a family, a boyfriend. And that had been ripped away from her. A small part of her knew that she had to go back, but she quickly squashed it, knowing that she wouldn't be able to handle it. The responsibility, the security. That wasn't her anymore. Since taking to the road with the brothers, she had found a whole new part of herself. It was easier. Only two people counted on her, and they were perfectly capable of taking care of themselves. Even then, even with her new life, she found herself gazing at the guns and knives packed into the trunk of the Impala. Every time she found herself in a dangerous situation, she thought for a split second before pulling herself out of harm's way. Sometimes, when she was in the shower, she debated laying down in the tub and letting the water fill her lungs. She never thought these things for more than a few moments, but every day, she thought about how much easier it would be if she were back in Heaven. Most days, the only thing that pulled the doubt from her mind was Dean. Every time he held her, touched her, even looked at her, it made her rethink her life. And every time she did this, she decided that she wanted to be right here with him.

All these thoughts flew right out of her head the second his lips closed over hers. Turning her on his lap so that she was straddling him, he pulled the oversized t-shirt over her head, his hands hands making a beeline for her hips and his lips once again closing over hers the second the fabric had cleared her face. Rolling her over, he dropped a trail of feather-light kisses down her jawline, neck, and torso, unbuttoning and unzipping her jeans with a flick of his wrist. He slowly slid them down her slender hips and muscled legs, his lips following closely behind, causing her to gasp softly at the contact. As soon as he dropped her discarded jeans on the floor, she pulled him back up, tugging softly on his trademark necklace in order to pull him down for another searing kiss.

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“Can I ask you a question?” Dean muttered softly, his hand easily threading through the long blond hair that was splayed out over his chest. He was laying in bed on his back with his arm wrapped around her slender form, and she was curled up by his side, her head and hand resting on his slightly moist chest. She made a small sound, which he took to mean “yes” and smiled, dropping a kiss to the top of her head. “When we....” he hesitated, seemingly to work out how he wanted to ask her, “found you... Why did you decide to come with us?” She was silent for a minute, debating how much she wanted to divulge, before answering.

“When I was brought back,” she started, equally as softly, “I think they thought that I was in hell. I wasn't. I just... couldn't go back there. It wasn't my life anymore.” She made no move to elaborate, and he made no move to push her. The two sat in silence for a while, both thinking about her answer, before Dean's stomach let out a loud growl. “Hungry?” she teased lightly, looking up at him and smiling. He chuckled softly before kissing her. The tension had dissipated, and for that, Buffy was grateful.

“I'm gonna go get something to eat,” he informed her, kissing her deeply before sliding out of bed. Watching interestedly as he pulled on his boxers and jeans, she followed, tugging on her discarded panties and Sam's shirt. “You want anything?”

“Nah,” she replied with a small smile. “You go ahead. I just ate.”

“Alright, I'll be ba-...” He was interrupted by the front door slamming open, and Buffy's gaze shot to the entrance, only to see Sam and Dean standing there with their guns raised.

“What the fu-...?” In a split second, the Dean she had just slept with had grabbed her and backed up against the wall, having grabbed her forgotten gun and pointing it at her head. “Oh, you have got to be kidding me.” She could have had him off of her and on his back in three second flat, but she knew that he had no qualms about blowing her brains out all over the ugly wallpaper, so she kept still and hoped that the boys could handle this.

“Let her go!” the real!Dean barked, but shapeshifter!Dean stood his ground.

“Put them down, or else I'll shoot your pretty little girlfriend in the head.”

“No! Shoot him!” Buffy ordered, but shapeshifter!Dean tightened his grip on her neck, effectively cutting off her air supply.

“She is pretty, isn't she,” he taunted, licking a small patch of skin on her neck, causing her to flinch and Dean to narrow his eyes and adjust his grip on the gun. “And an amazing fuck. I mean, I knew she had those Slayer muscles, but man, I didn't know they were everywhere.” Dean's eyes flickered to her before snapping back to his twin's.

“You're lying,” he growled. Sam didn't seem as sure.

“Oh am I?” His eyes lowered to his hips, and sure enough, a thigh-sized bruise stood out against his pale skin. Real!Dean caught her eye, and she stared right back, silently telling him what to do. He shook his head. No, he wouldn't.

“Dean, do it!” she managed to gasp out.

“No!”

“Do it now!” she yelled, and after a second's hesitation, Dean pulled the trigger, sending a silver bullet through her shoulder and straight into the shapeshifter's heart. She launched herself to the side, clutching her shoulder and wincing as she slammed onto the itchy carpet, and Dean pumped a few extra rounds into the thing for good measure. In a second, Sam was at her side, holding a shirt to her shoulder to stem the bleeding, and Dean had walked over to his imitator and was staring down at it with a dark look on his face. In a blink of an eye, it was gone, and he had kneeled next to her, taking her face into his hands. “See? I knew it would work,” she said weakly, and he gathered her up in his arms, barking at Sam to gather their things. A few minutes later, they were speeding down the road to Rebecca's house.

“Buffy!” he yelled as her eyes fluttered shut, and she snapped them open again in surprise. “Stay with me!” His face continued to blur around the edges, and a few seconds later, darkness overtook her.

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Buffy and Dean stood by the Impala while Sam said goodbye to Rebecca. The bullet had been extracted and Sam had bandaged the wound, slapping her hands away when she protested, telling him that it would heal on its own in a couple of days. Dean looked at her and coughed before starting to fidget slightly.

“So, It's true.” It wasn't a question.

“Yes,” she answered, looking straight into his hazel eyes. She had mixed feelings about the whole incident. A part of her, the significantly larger part was livid. Both at herself and that thing. There was a bit of disgust thrown in there as well. But the other part of her didn't really care. When he, no it, had kissed her, wrapped its arms around her, held her.... It had made her feel alive. Safe. Loved. 'That's what you wanted,' the reasonable part of her argued, and she sighed. Concentrating on the man standing in front of her, she could practically see the gears turning in his head. He was pissed, and he had a right to be.

“How wa-...” His mouth snapped shut as Sam appeared at his side, and both he and Buffy sent Rebecca a small wave before she disappeared back into her house. “So, what about your friend, Zack?” Sam looked between the two for a moment, knowing that he had interrupted something, before answering.

“Cops are blaming this Dean Winchester guy for Emily's murder.” He shot his brother a small smile. “They found the murder weapon in the guy's lair, Zack's clothes stained with her blood. Now they're thinking maybe the surveillance tape was tampered with. Yeah, Becca says Zack will be released soon.” He smiled again and got into the car, Dean and Buffy following him. Quickly strapping herself in, she looked out the window and leaned her head against the headrest, closing her eyes as Dean started the car and pulled out onto the open road.

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Well that's it for now! Hope y'all liked it! I know there wasn't really any aftermath of Dean shooting our favorite Slayer or her sleeping with shapeshifter!Dean, but not to worry, these things will be addressed in later chapters. Also, I'm taking a few liberties with the timeline, because in the episode, it went from 5am til dark in the blink of an eye. I didn't know how to fix this, so I just ignored it.

Anyways, hope you liked! Drop me a review on your way out! ^_^