So screw me!

Disclaimer: I own naught. If I did, I'd do naughty things with them.

A/N: Idea popped up, wouldn't stay down.

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"Screw me if I'm wrong, but have we met before?"

Dawn looked up at the cocksure grin, messy light brown hair, and - good god - dimples, and allowed her eyes to widen comically. She blinked furiously, just enough to summon a faint glistening sheen to her big blue eyes.

When she spoke her voice was as breathy and wounded as she could manage, "You - you mean you don't remember?" She started to sniffle a little, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing at the panic growing in the man's hazel eyes.

"I - um - uh," he garbled.

She stood abruptly and, with a dramatic flourish that would have done Cordelia proud, threw her drink into his face. "You pig," she snarled vociferously - mainly for the benefit of the gathering listeners.

Snatching up her purse and shrug, she headed for the door. Just before the exit she managed to swing through the grinding dancers to reach her goal: a very tall and extremely amused man. Chuckling, he wiped tears away with one hand and handed her a fifty-dollar bill with the other.

Dawn smirked at him, "Worth it?"

Sam looked over at his still-sputtering brother and grinned with unholy glee, "Hell yeah!"

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Crossing: BtVS/Supernatural