Disclaimer: I solemnly swear that I own none of the characters or places talked about in this or subsequent stories. They belong solely to their respective creators and whatever soul sucking corporate faction gets all the money.

A/N So, here’s a little preface as to how I got into Dawn/Dean.

All-you-wanted on livejournal wrote this really good, short listy type fic called " Five things Dean loves about Dawn Summers " and I thought to myself "Well that’s mighty interesting… wonder what that’s about" because I am a huge fan of BtVS (me and my friend used to have Buffy and cheesecake-athons). So I watched the first episode of ‘Supernatural’ online on the recommendation of my friend, who is, consequently, of the opinion that Sam is actually a woman.

Anyway, I watched it and it pretty much blew my mind so now I’m catching up on it through a little site called Dude Videos! and I am really super into it. So last night I knew I wouldn’t have enough time to finish another episode, so I went on ff.net and looked if there were any more Dawn/Dean fics. That’s when I stumbled up ‘Walk Away’ and other fabulous Dawn/Dean type stories by J. Maria, almost all of which are under my Favorite Stories.

Phew. So that brings me here, about to embark on a canon much like that in J. Maria’s own. If they happen to read this story, first of all I’m flattered that you’d even consider reading it, and secondly if you wish for me to cease and desist writing in your general canon of things (Dawn and Faith meet the Winchester boys, shenanigans ensue), please tell me and I will gladly… er, cease and desist.

On with the write-y ness!

 

"Please, please, please," Faith pleaded with the gray smoke billowing out of the hood of the car, "Just a few more miles. C’mon, please."

The car (which Faith had won in a pretty questionable poker game) made a nasty, grinding noise and then stopped altogether on the side of the road, rolling gently to halt on the gravel.

"Shit!" Faith dug the heel of her palm into the horn, which gave a half-hearted meeeep that tapered off into and got lost in the soft whizzing of the passing cars. None of them bothered to stop, although a black Impala slowed down a little when Faith hopped out and started to clear the back seat of its mess.

"Whazzat?" Dawn rubbed her eyes and blinked at the flat summer heat all around them from the passenger side.

"Little Dee," Faith sighed, shoving a pile of clothes and weaponry from the backseat into a battered black duffel bag, "I think we need an alternate mode of transportation."

Dawn clopped her way done the gas station convenience store aisles, the melted bottoms of her flip-flops sticking to the grainy white tile with every step. At the end of the aisle was a huge refrigerator case, the glass face of it sweating beautiful beads of cold water. She hastened her squeaky steps, rushing passed boxes of dusty candy bars and racks of battered chip bags. Finally she was at the end of the aisle, bathed in the refrigerator’s fluorescent glow and in arm’s length of a bottle of water the size of a pro-wrestler’s forearm.

Dawn reached forward, almost in slow motion, to grip the black plastic hand of the refrigerator door when a black leather torso moved in front of her, blocking out the light and her way to a huge ass water bottle.

"Uhh… excuse you?"

The figure twisted around, a lazy smirk on it’s somewhat (all right, really super) handsome face.

"Sorry, didn’t see ya there..." The man gave Dawn the once over. "Princess." He jerked a six pack of beer out of the case and held the swinging glass door open, motioning for Dawn to take her turn. She gave her best impudent little sister look, a pretty serious feat considering how sweaty and red faced she was from the trek, and walked forward into the cool air drifting out of the refrigerator. She tugged the largest bottle of water free from one of the racks, gave the man a sour half-smile and turned on her heel back down the aisle, adding a little extra sway for the stranger’s benefit.

By the time Dawn was flip-flopping her way across the parking lot towards Faith, the red-orange desert sun was dipping behind the pumps of Big Earl’s Gas’n’go. She unscrewed the cap of the big ass water bottle, wiping the perspiration off on her jean shorts clad leg and taking a gulp as she stepped out onto the asphalt. A black car swerved to avoid her and a rough voice called out the window, "Ey! Watch where you’re goin’ there princess!" The passenger shushed him as they peeled out of the parking lot, metal blaring out of the rolled down windows.

If so much of her faculties hadn’t been caught up in drinking and enjoying the icy cold water, she would have done Spike proud and flipped the driver off good. As it was, she trudged the rest of the way across the parking lot, chugging as much water as she could.

"No such luck, Sweet D," Faith sighed, waving a worn looking bus schedule at her watcher in training, "Next bus doesn’t come for a week. We’re officially in the middle of East Fuckin’ Nowhere."

Dawn detached from the water bottle with a satisfying pop and handed the half-drunk bottle to Faith, who had her legs draped over their bags on a bench. Faith rolled the bottle gratefully across her sweating forehead and then took a long swig.

Two months on the road and neither bothered with sky drops anymore.

The least resistant to the idea of Dawn going off with Faith for her Watcher field training had been Buffy.

Xander, Willow and even Spike and Angel (both of whom phoned in their concerns from L.A.) had gone on for weeks with Buffy about letting the littlest Scooby hit the road. Finally Dawn had appealed to Giles, who in classic form calmly reminded Buffy that she could either give Dawn her blessing for the trip or wake up one morning and find that Dawn had left in the middle of the night.

Besides, Buffy had explained to Dawn before they’d gone to bed the night before she left, if anyone was going to keep her safe, it would be Faith.

Before she and Faith had peeled out of the driveway next day, Dawn had been presented with a Brazilian evil eye bracelet, a small crossbow, and the names and numbers of every helpful person the Scoobies could think of across the country.

All of these things were stowed safely in her duffel bag under Faith’s legs, except the evil eye bracelet, which jingled on her wrist as she took a seat on the bench next to the older girl.

"So what do we do now." Dawn kicked at the dandelions surrounding the bench.

"Remember that bar we saw on the way down?"

"Yeah…"

"Let’s see if we can’t get ourselves some free hooch and some cash, long as we’re stuck here."

"Well, hey there, Princess." The fridge guy from before had appeared out of the bar haze and picked up the pool cue abandoned not five minutes before by a seriously pissed off biker with a Santa beard. Dawn shot a glare at the not-so-stranger and continued counting up the thick pile of wrinkled bills she had won so far.

"One eighty-five, one ninety-six, two oh-five…" she counted under her breath, ignoring the guy as he caught the billiard balls in the triangular rack. She finished at an even two twenty, folded up the bills and stuck the wad in the front pocket of her shorts.

"Got a shit load of cash in your pocket or you just glad to see me?" he laughed and rolled her the cue ball. "Ladies break."

"I don’t really remember agreeing to play with you," Dawn sighed. The man smirked and shed his jacket. Dawn lined up her shot. "By the way, whose ass am I about to kick?"

The balls scattered clumsily. She’d started with a crappy shot on purpose, but sunk a solid anyway.

"Name’s Dean."

Faith was talking to a guy at the bar when Dawn sunk the eight ball in the corner pocket and relieved Dean of twenty-five bucks.

"Sonofabitch." He shook his head, cocky smile still somewhat in place. "I want you to know that this was my gas money, Princess. Who taught you to shoot like that?"

This guy was getting on her nerves. She needed to pull out the patented Summers Girls’ ‘Scare-a-guy’ technique.

"For real? A vampire."

Dawn left the guy, Dean or whatever, standing next to the pool table. By the time she had fought her way through the bar, Faith was gone and so was the guy she’d been chatting up.

"If Faith left me here for some nookie, I’m so gonna sic Buffy on her."

Dawn hopped down the steps of the bar and scanned the parking lot for her Slayer charge. She found her sitting on the hood of an old black Impala, talking to two guys.

"Hey, Sweet Dee! I found us a ride!" She waved Dawn over to the car. The two guys turned around. One was taller and very clean-cut looking, not Faith’s type at all. The other one was… Shit. The other one was the guy who’s gas money she had just hustled.

"Sweet D, this is Sammy and this is-"

"Dean. I know. I just sort of took his money."

"Yeah, we’ve met." Dean didn’t look too happy now with the prospect of having two females tagging along.

" Damn, kid," Faith laughed, shaking her head at Dean, "Looks like you’re as dumb as your brother is pretty."

"Hey, hey, hey." Dean shook his finger at Faith. He pointed at Sam and then back at himself. "Brains. Beauty. Don’t get it mixed up. And you probably shouldn’t be insulting the guy who’s gonna haul you and the Princess’s ass cross country."

"Wait," Dawn’s arms snapped across her chest. "This is our ride? No way in Hell am I getting in this scrap heap."

"This is a fine, sophisticated, beautiful speed machine. She is a lady."

"Great, we’re going cross country with Mr. McCrazy Pants here."

"I am NOT a crazy pants. If anyone is a crazy pants here it’s the one who just told me she learned to hustle pool from a vampire."

"Oh man, D," Faith shook her head. "You gotta stop TMI-ing every time you want a dude to go away."

"Faith, how do we know these guys aren’t vamps?" Dawn looked from Sam to Dean, who seemed to get even angrier.

"Dude," Dean pointed an accusing finger at his brother, "You could’ve just offered a ride to a pair of type A women in white."

"Am I wearing white? Do you see me wearing white? Do I look like I’m going to try to seduce and kill you?" Dawn threw her arms in the air. "Salt me if you have to! God damn."

There was a pause, and the quartet took the time to stare each other down.

"We’re-"

"We’re-"

"-hunters."

"-slayers. And a Watcher."

"Shit." Dawn rubbed her aching head. The Hellmouth had not prepared her for this shit.

"So I guess we’re all going the same way," Sam said, speaking for the first time. He looked pointedly at his brother. The ‘they’ll just get in the way’ excuse wasn’t going to work anymore. Dean threw up his hands and hopped into the driver’s seat, mumbling something about crazies and rock salt.

"We can either take this ride or we can hitch our way around, Little D," Faith said with a shrug, "You choose."

"Fine," Dawn sighed, yanking the backdoor of the Impala open and sliding in. She glared at the back of Dean’s head. "But if anything happens, know that my sister could break open your ribcage. With her eyes."

 

A/N Notes and such:

Sky drop- when you hold the bottle (cup, canteen, etc.) above your mouth and drop the liquid in, so as to never actually touch the mouth of the bottle with your lips. This is usually employed when sharing a drink with either many people or with people who are ill or you don’t know well enough to share saliva with. It shouldn’t be attempted if you (like me) wear low cut shirts and have bad aim.

Evil eye - The Middle Eastern evil eye is a blue circle with a white circle and a smaller black circle inside. They are all over Middle Eastern grocery stores and old grandmas’ houses. We have one in our kitchen. A Brazilian evil eye is much more eye shaped, but it serves the same purpose. All evil eyes ward off evil. If you’ve ever been to a voodoo shop, you’ll see them everywhere.