Disclaimer: I don't own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Supernatural. Buffy belongs to Whedon, and Supernatural belongs to Kripke. No money made.
A/N: So, apparently, Supernatural has taken over my frame of mind. I think I've done way more crossovers with it this year than I did last year. I still remember when I had that "new fandom" feeling when I first wrote for it. Ah, reminiscing. Of course, I honestly think that the reason SPN is so in my mind is due to several Big Bangs I've signed up for that call for it. Moving on, yes, there are spoilers for the ending of S7 of SPN, so if you don't want to know, don't read. This takes place after Buffy S7. Anyhow, please enjoy!
This sucked. This royally, royally sucked. And what sucked even more was that when she realized the newbies were not supposed to be here. But maybe that was just what she needed.
Anya hid behind one of the shadowed trees, unnoticeable to her fellow inhabitants of purgatory as they caught the scent of new prey. She peered into the small clearing, the moonlight—or, what passes for moonlight here—illuminating his handsome features. He was rugged, but not in that fake, male clothing catalog way. And he was panicked. For good reason, as his friend—who clearly looked like he had just escaped a mental institution—disappeared into thin air. But not before telling the one left behind where they were.
Purgatory. The home for the souls of all things monstrous. This was the last place Anya had expected to end up when she died. Heaven, Hell… anywhere but Purgatory. But maybe that brief stint as a human, both at birth and then later when she had molded into one of the Scoobies, had confused The Powers just enough to plop her here.
The least they could have done was returned her to full demon strength. Here, she had minimal powers… a shadow of her former, demonic being. Guess that was because of the human too. But it was enough to survive. Not to escape, just survive.
And maybe it was enough to help what's-his-face in the clearing with the disappearing friend survive too.
Before the shadowed monsters, their red eyes illuminated even brighter than the so-called moonlight, could advance farther, Anya dove out of the trees. The man jumped to see her—since she probably looked just as he did, human. But there was no time to escape. She took him by the hand, locked eyes with him, and said, "Run."
He didn't argue, falling in step behind her as she led him into the trees behind where he had stood. She kept him going, ducking and weaving when necessary, growls of the other occupants of Purgatory never far from them. Neither spoke a word as Anya continued to grip his hand, pulling him deeper and deeper into the dense darkness of this facsimile of a forest. Finally, they broke into another, smaller clearing, the mouth of a small cave right across from them. Anya pulled the man inside behind her, whirling around to mutter an incantation as soon as they had cleared.
The nearest monster to have given chase crashed into the magical barrier she had erected, snarling and backing away to ram at them again.
"Shit," the man muttered.
After a moment, the monsters realized that these two had outwitted them, and turned on each other, running back off into the night. The man turned to Anya, his breath still coming in puffs as he attempted to regain it.
"Who are you?" he asked.
"Anya," she answered. "And you?"
"Dean. How are you here? Like, in Purgatory?" he asked.
Anya shrugged. "I died. I'm figuring, based on your confusion, that's not how things went for you."
Dean backed up a step. Anya could practically feel the caution rolling off of him in waves.
"You're a monster?"
"Vengeance demon," she responded, if not a bit haughtily. "Former."
"Demons go to Hell," Dean said, as if she had her terminology wrong.
She rolled her eyes. "I was human when I died."
Dean arched a brow. "How?"
"I was stabbed with a sword."
"No," he said, shaking his head. "How were you human?"
Anya scoffed. "So not important. You're friend, what is he? How did he teleport?"
"He's an angel."
Her eyes lit up. If she didn't have her full powers to get her the hell out of Purgatory, then surely an angel did. She grasped Dean by both shoulders, shaking him excitedly.
"He can get us out of here!" she squealed.
"Whoa, whoa!" Dean said, backing out of her grasp. "I'm not so sure about that. He seemed more resigned to the whole tear-to-shreds thing."
Anya waved that comment aside. "It's probably just the shock. It's quite shocking to wake up here, you know."
"Yeah, I do," Dean grumbled.
"No time for moping! Do you have a way to communicate with your angel friend?" Anya asked.
"I can try. Um, Cas… Cas you there? We're in this cave. If you haven't been eaten by anything, it might be nice for your feathery ass to show back up," Dean said, his eyes closed as if in prayer.
Which made sense to Anya, since Dean claimed his friend to be an angel. There were a moment were nothing happened, and Dean peeked open one eye. He gazed around the dark cave, finally resting his glare on the mouth.
"Can he get through the barrier?" he asked.
"Should be able to. I only enchanted it so it would keep out that which would do us harm," Anya said.
"Dean," said another voice, gravelly and rough as a sound like the fluttering of many wings reverberated around them.
Anya blinked, getting a closer look at Dean's friend. Also not unattractive, his eyes bright blues, his dark hair slightly messed, but definitely with that "I might be insane" dress code going on, since underneath the tan overcoat he wore was clearly hospital issue wear.
"Where the hell did you go, Cas?" Dean demanded.
Cas looked away before answering. "I was searching."
"For what? A snack?" Dean snarked back.
Anya liked this exchange, even for all its heated words. Reminded her of her friends, of Xander. She frowned, pushing the thought away. She had been careful not to think of Xander since her arrival in Purgatory. She might not get out, and thinking about never seeing Xander Harris again made a pain somewhere around her heart that she didn't like.
"A tear. Some remnant of our coming here," the angel replied.
"Won't be one," Anya said.
Cas turned to face her, his head cocked in question. "Who are you?"
"Anya," she answered. "And you're Cas, right?"
Cas turned back to Dean. "What is she?"
"Demon, she says. Vengeance."
Anya rolled her eyes. "Former. I was human when I died."
"How?" Cas said.
Anya shook her head. "I'm not going through this again. Look, boys, I've been stuck here for a very long time, and when I died, my friends and loved ones were fighting to the death. I'd kind of like to know if they made it out alive. What happened to Sunnydale?"
Dean shook his head. "I've never heard of it."
Anya pursed her lips. "The Hellmouth was opening, and you're someone who's friends with an angel. I figured you might've heard something about that."
"Hellmouth?" Dean asked. "What's a Hellmouth?"
"A magical place full of lollipops. What does it sound like it is?" Anya scowled.
"You're from a different dimension," Cas suddenly interjected, sounding like he had just remembered the title of a song that had been bugging him for a while.
"Well, crap," Anya said, taking a seat on the ground. "I was hoping to get home."
Cas looked at Dean, who seemed fairly on track with everything so far. Finally, the two glanced back at the clearly pouting Anya.
"Maybe we can still arrange that," Cas said.
Anya gazed up at him. Dean seemed to be staring at his friend as well.
"And just how is that, Cas?" he asked, clearly skeptical. "Not five minutes ago, you were pretty much the Game Over Man."
"I hadn't realized that the dimensions were shared here," he said, turning to Dean. "The rules are different in each dimension. In ours, our escape was virtually impossible. But, in Anya's…"
Now Cas leaned down to stare Anya right in the eye.
"You come from the dimension with the slayer, do you not?" he asked.
Anya nodded, feeling her hopes growing once more. "Yes. Buffy Summers. She's a friend, actually. Well, more of a friend of a friend. No… a friend."
Cas didn't even bat an eyelash at her babbled, pulling Anya to her feet. He turned back to Dean, and if Anya wasn't completely crazy yet, she thought she could see the slight play of a smile about the angel's lips.
"The rules are different there."
"Great. Just great. But we're not there, are we?" Dean asked.
Anya's face lit up. She had caught on. How could she have been so stupid not to have thought of it earlier? Damned survival… not always gives you the clearest head when it comes to future goals.
"But several things from my world are here, like me. Things with more power than me. Oh, God, how did I not think of this?" she said, actually slapping her forehead. "They might be hard to bargain with, but I'm like 1,123 years old… I've got some experience in bargaining with demons and coming out with the upper hand."
Dean seemed a little taken aback at her age, but his eyes searched the two standing before him. Finally, he shrugged.
"What the hell? Where do we start?"
End Notes: Total freakin' cliffy. I apologize, but I realized this story might need more than the 3k in this one-shot for FAD. So I chose to stop it here, with hope, and I'll pick up this one shot series again. It, uh, just might not be for a little bit. Hope no one minds! I'll just add any updates I do to this storyline to this entry, so you can just add this story to alerts to keep up.