Fic: Grey Ghost(1/7)
Fic: Grey Ghost(1/7)
Series: Special Projects
Summary: A drowning in a dry swimming pool draw the crew to Long Beach. Did we mention that the pool was on a haunted cruise ship?
Author: pen37
Beta: Clarksmuse
Fandoms: Smallville/Supernatural
Characters: Chloe, Sam, Dean
Pairing:Chloe/Dean
Rating: pg-13
This is a part of the Special Projects series. You can find the rest of the series here.
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7
The high-beams from dozens of flashlights stabbed through the darkness like hot knives through butter. The inky blackness fled into the far corners of the room as if clearing a path for the cluster of whispering sixteen-year-olds who shuffled into the room.
At the head of the group, Michael McRoy swept his own light around, illuminating stacks of wooden deck chairs and art-deco style furniture.
“Careful as you move around,” he said. “Ghosts aren't the only things that live down here, and the more you move around, the more you scare the rats.”
Nervous chuckles reverberated around the room as the teens played their flashlights over the dusty clutter.
“How many ghosts are supposed to be on the Queen Mary?” A giggly girl in the middle of the group asked nervously.
“Six hundred,” Michael said with a definite nod. “Which makes this the most haunted place in America.”
As he looked over the group of teens, he noticed that three of them near the back - two boys and a girl -- didn't look as interested in his story as the rest. Oh well, there were always a few in every group. He made a mental note to keep an eye on them and make sure they didn't vandalize anything before launching into the next part of his talk.
“But you didn't come here to hear about ghosts.” His statement prompted groans from the rest of the group, and eye-rolls from the three troublemakers. Right on cue, the audio of a scream reverberated around the room. As one, the group jumped. They might have taken off running in all directions if not for Michael's laughter.
“Sorry about that, kids. Just a little dramatics to keep you on your toes. When we do the ghost tours, we get a bit theatrical.”
“So that wasn't real?” The girl from the back asked.
“It was a real scream,” Michael hedged.
“Whatever,” she rolled her eyes.
With a sigh and a mental prayer for patience, Michael continued the lecture. “Before World War Two, travel was an event in itself. You could hop a plane, but if you had the money and the time, you could travel in style aboard a luxury liner like this one. In her heyday the Queen Mary was considered the only civilized way to travel. At the height of her popularity, she carried celebrities like Clark Gable and Marlene Dietrich, royalty like the Duke and Duchess of Windsor, and statesmen such as Winston Churchill.
But all of that ended - at least temporarily - with the outbreak of the second World War. Which is what you're here to find out about. During that time, the ship was pressed into service as a troop transport, and painted grey. Because of it's speed and near invisibility, it became known as The Grey Ghost.”
* * *
Cheryl Siccardi leaned closer to Dub Walters and Matt Lewis so that she could whisper. “This is the lamest field trip I've ever heard of,”
“Least we're out of school,” Dub said.
“Whatever,” Cheryl rolled her eyes.
“You think they'd miss us if we slipped off?” Matt asked.
“Heard there was a pool upstairs,” she whispered.
“You thinking skinny dipping?” Matt asked.
“With you two?” she scoffed.
“Just sayin'.” Matt held up his hands, palms outward, in a placating manner.
She rolled her eyes, shortened her strides and let the class move on ahead of her. When they left the dusty storage room, the three of them veered off down a side corridor and made their way down twisting hallways back to the staircase.
“You think we'll see where they filmed The X-Files?” Dub asked.
“You are such a geek,” Matt said.
“It was a cool show,” Dub said in protest.
Cheryl pushed past the two boys as they got to the top of the staircase. The halls were wider here, with carpeting, fancy light fixtures and art-deco embellishments. When they reached the landing, the boys broke into a run. She narrowed her eyes and then raced after them. They darted down long, strait hallways. As they pushed past guests and tourists alike, they laughed at the confusion that they left in their wake.
Before long, they broke through the doors to the poolroom, and stopped short.
“Man,” Dub said in disappointment. “The water's gone.”
“Guess no one swims here anymore,” Matt said.
Cheryl opened her mouth to speak, but suddenly found it hard to breathe. She coughed in an effort to clear her lungs and then inhaled sharply.
But it was as if she'd just breathed a lungful of water. She leaned forward, coughing and spluttering. Each gasp seemed to bring more water into her lungs.
“Cheryl?” Dub patted her back in an effort to dislodge whatever was stuck there. She looked up at him hopefully. But he seemed to think she was choking, not drowning. And she couldn't get across what was happening.
“What's wrong with you?”
He looked up at Matt in confusion. “Get some help!”
Matt nodded, turned and ran.
With another gasp, Cheryl fell forward to the decking of the pool
“Cheryl?” Dub's voice sounded far away. She felt as if she were being held under the surface of the empty pool next to her. “Cheryl?”
She tried to reach out to Dub, but already things seemed to be fading to blackness.
* * *
Sam shifted from one foot to the other, and pressed his mouth in a thin line of annoyance. He knocked on the door to Dean and Chloe's room again. Not long ago, he might have had the adjoining room. But back then he would have felt comfortable just walking in.
Of course, that was all before his brother and Chloe started sleeping together. Now, during those breaks between hunts he wanted a couple rooms between him and whatever they were doing. He didn't need to see the weird, uncomfortable looks on the faces of the poor souls who actually shared a wall with the two of them to know that they were probably doing things that he really didn't want the details of.
Just then, Dean opened the door.
Maybe Dean.
Sam squinted at his brother in confusion. He was wearing a pair of wire-framed glasses and one of the suits that they hadn't gotten around to returning yet. His hair was sticking up in all directions, his shirt was rumpled, his tie was askew and he looked kind of dorky.
“Did you get mugged by a rogue Mensa member?” Sam asked.
“What?” Dean's face twisted in confusion. Then he seemed to realize how he looked. He gave Sam the horndog grin that usually made the younger Winchester brother's skin crawl.
“No Dude,” Dean gave Sam a thumbs up. “Chloe's just got a major geek fetish.”
Sam pulled his mouth into a grimace and shook his head. “Don't tell me. Ever.”
“Somebody's a little uptight,” Dean sing-songed. “When was the last time you got laid?”
Sam huffed. “I may have found us a case. I thought you and Chloe would want to take a look at it,” he threw his hands out to his sides.
“Is that Sam?” Chloe's voice echoed behind Dean. He turned, and Sam caught the glimpse through the doorway of the way she was dressed: a plaid skirt and knee socks. He shut his eyes and shook his head as his brain went there.
“Yeah, it's him,” Dean nodded in confirmation. Then he leaned in to whisper to Sam with undisguised glee. “Dude, she's Catholic. And totally into the whole geek-boy vibe. I couldn't not take advantage of that.”
Sam scoffed at Dean's lack of boundaries. “Please, Dean. I don't need to know the details.”
“Yeah, whatever,” Dean muttered. “You want to come in and tell us about this case? Or stand out there and contemplate what a loser you are for not getting laid on a regular basis?”
Sam frowned and then pushed his way past Dean and into the room. He nodded to Chloe, who was throwing an armload of dirty clothes into a laundry bag. Judging by the way her hair was messed up and her pinafore looked rumpled as well, he'd definitely interrupted something.
“Sorry for butting in like this,” he said apologetically.
“It's fine Sam,”Chloe waved him off. “I should be the one apologizing. We have been kind of leaving you to your own devices the past couple of days.”
Sam shrugged. A few days ago, they'd stumbled into the middle of a war between two packs of vampires. In the confusion, Dean had been turned into a vampire and then through judicial application of Chloe's healing blood, turned again into some kind of half-vampire uber hunter.
As if that particular hunt hadn't been crazy enough, Dean had ended up proposing to Chloe as well. And although she'd shot him down, Sam figured it was only a matter of time before his best friend of the female-shaped persuasion was also his sister-in-law.
It had been a couple of stressful days, so Sam could understand why the two of them would just want to hole up and be together. Particularly since Chloe hadn't exactly said yes. Sam suspected that part of Dean's plan to get her to change her mind was to sex a yes out of her.
Problem was, while the two of them were playing naughty professor, he was left feeling like a third wheel.
He'd spent most of the time reading up on Dhampiers, so that he could help ease Dean's transition into his new metahuman status. Then he'd stumbled across a potential hunt.
“So what have you got?” Dean sat down on the bed and tossed the glasses onto the night table.
“Drowning in a hotel pool.”
“So?” Dean frowned.
“The pool was drained of water at the time.”
“Really?” Dean raised an eyebrow. “Sounds like our kind of gig.”
“And it's aboard the Queen Mary.”
Dean frowned. “You mean that boat in California? The one they turned into a hotel?”
“That's the one,” Sam said.
“I know that ship,” Chloe said. “I did a report on it for history class. It's supposed to be really, really haunted. Like, the ghost population on that ship is supposed to be bigger than some small towns.”
Off Dean and Sam's confused looks, she shrugged. “What? I was interested in the paranormal in high school and you don't get much more haunted than the Queen Mary. But the story about how she was a World War Two transport ship was what I got an A in history class for.”
“Well that's just great,” Dean crossed his arms. “That's going to be like looking for a needle in a haystack factory.”
“There's no such thing,” Sam scoffed.
“So?”
Series: Special Projects
Summary: A drowning in a dry swimming pool draw the crew to Long Beach. Did we mention that the pool was on a haunted cruise ship?
Author: pen37
Beta: Clarksmuse
Fandoms: Smallville/Supernatural
Characters: Chloe, Sam, Dean
Pairing:Chloe/Dean
Rating: pg-13
This is a part of the Special Projects series. You can find the rest of the series here.
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7
The high-beams from dozens of flashlights stabbed through the darkness like hot knives through butter. The inky blackness fled into the far corners of the room as if clearing a path for the cluster of whispering sixteen-year-olds who shuffled into the room.
At the head of the group, Michael McRoy swept his own light around, illuminating stacks of wooden deck chairs and art-deco style furniture.
“Careful as you move around,” he said. “Ghosts aren't the only things that live down here, and the more you move around, the more you scare the rats.”
Nervous chuckles reverberated around the room as the teens played their flashlights over the dusty clutter.
“How many ghosts are supposed to be on the Queen Mary?” A giggly girl in the middle of the group asked nervously.
“Six hundred,” Michael said with a definite nod. “Which makes this the most haunted place in America.”
As he looked over the group of teens, he noticed that three of them near the back - two boys and a girl -- didn't look as interested in his story as the rest. Oh well, there were always a few in every group. He made a mental note to keep an eye on them and make sure they didn't vandalize anything before launching into the next part of his talk.
“But you didn't come here to hear about ghosts.” His statement prompted groans from the rest of the group, and eye-rolls from the three troublemakers. Right on cue, the audio of a scream reverberated around the room. As one, the group jumped. They might have taken off running in all directions if not for Michael's laughter.
“Sorry about that, kids. Just a little dramatics to keep you on your toes. When we do the ghost tours, we get a bit theatrical.”
“So that wasn't real?” The girl from the back asked.
“It was a real scream,” Michael hedged.
“Whatever,” she rolled her eyes.
With a sigh and a mental prayer for patience, Michael continued the lecture. “Before World War Two, travel was an event in itself. You could hop a plane, but if you had the money and the time, you could travel in style aboard a luxury liner like this one. In her heyday the Queen Mary was considered the only civilized way to travel. At the height of her popularity, she carried celebrities like Clark Gable and Marlene Dietrich, royalty like the Duke and Duchess of Windsor, and statesmen such as Winston Churchill.
But all of that ended - at least temporarily - with the outbreak of the second World War. Which is what you're here to find out about. During that time, the ship was pressed into service as a troop transport, and painted grey. Because of it's speed and near invisibility, it became known as The Grey Ghost.”
* * *
Cheryl Siccardi leaned closer to Dub Walters and Matt Lewis so that she could whisper. “This is the lamest field trip I've ever heard of,”
“Least we're out of school,” Dub said.
“Whatever,” Cheryl rolled her eyes.
“You think they'd miss us if we slipped off?” Matt asked.
“Heard there was a pool upstairs,” she whispered.
“You thinking skinny dipping?” Matt asked.
“With you two?” she scoffed.
“Just sayin'.” Matt held up his hands, palms outward, in a placating manner.
She rolled her eyes, shortened her strides and let the class move on ahead of her. When they left the dusty storage room, the three of them veered off down a side corridor and made their way down twisting hallways back to the staircase.
“You think we'll see where they filmed The X-Files?” Dub asked.
“You are such a geek,” Matt said.
“It was a cool show,” Dub said in protest.
Cheryl pushed past the two boys as they got to the top of the staircase. The halls were wider here, with carpeting, fancy light fixtures and art-deco embellishments. When they reached the landing, the boys broke into a run. She narrowed her eyes and then raced after them. They darted down long, strait hallways. As they pushed past guests and tourists alike, they laughed at the confusion that they left in their wake.
Before long, they broke through the doors to the poolroom, and stopped short.
“Man,” Dub said in disappointment. “The water's gone.”
“Guess no one swims here anymore,” Matt said.
Cheryl opened her mouth to speak, but suddenly found it hard to breathe. She coughed in an effort to clear her lungs and then inhaled sharply.
But it was as if she'd just breathed a lungful of water. She leaned forward, coughing and spluttering. Each gasp seemed to bring more water into her lungs.
“Cheryl?” Dub patted her back in an effort to dislodge whatever was stuck there. She looked up at him hopefully. But he seemed to think she was choking, not drowning. And she couldn't get across what was happening.
“What's wrong with you?”
He looked up at Matt in confusion. “Get some help!”
Matt nodded, turned and ran.
With another gasp, Cheryl fell forward to the decking of the pool
“Cheryl?” Dub's voice sounded far away. She felt as if she were being held under the surface of the empty pool next to her. “Cheryl?”
She tried to reach out to Dub, but already things seemed to be fading to blackness.
* * *
Sam shifted from one foot to the other, and pressed his mouth in a thin line of annoyance. He knocked on the door to Dean and Chloe's room again. Not long ago, he might have had the adjoining room. But back then he would have felt comfortable just walking in.
Of course, that was all before his brother and Chloe started sleeping together. Now, during those breaks between hunts he wanted a couple rooms between him and whatever they were doing. He didn't need to see the weird, uncomfortable looks on the faces of the poor souls who actually shared a wall with the two of them to know that they were probably doing things that he really didn't want the details of.
Just then, Dean opened the door.
Maybe Dean.
Sam squinted at his brother in confusion. He was wearing a pair of wire-framed glasses and one of the suits that they hadn't gotten around to returning yet. His hair was sticking up in all directions, his shirt was rumpled, his tie was askew and he looked kind of dorky.
“Did you get mugged by a rogue Mensa member?” Sam asked.
“What?” Dean's face twisted in confusion. Then he seemed to realize how he looked. He gave Sam the horndog grin that usually made the younger Winchester brother's skin crawl.
“No Dude,” Dean gave Sam a thumbs up. “Chloe's just got a major geek fetish.”
Sam pulled his mouth into a grimace and shook his head. “Don't tell me. Ever.”
“Somebody's a little uptight,” Dean sing-songed. “When was the last time you got laid?”
Sam huffed. “I may have found us a case. I thought you and Chloe would want to take a look at it,” he threw his hands out to his sides.
“Is that Sam?” Chloe's voice echoed behind Dean. He turned, and Sam caught the glimpse through the doorway of the way she was dressed: a plaid skirt and knee socks. He shut his eyes and shook his head as his brain went there.
“Yeah, it's him,” Dean nodded in confirmation. Then he leaned in to whisper to Sam with undisguised glee. “Dude, she's Catholic. And totally into the whole geek-boy vibe. I couldn't not take advantage of that.”
Sam scoffed at Dean's lack of boundaries. “Please, Dean. I don't need to know the details.”
“Yeah, whatever,” Dean muttered. “You want to come in and tell us about this case? Or stand out there and contemplate what a loser you are for not getting laid on a regular basis?”
Sam frowned and then pushed his way past Dean and into the room. He nodded to Chloe, who was throwing an armload of dirty clothes into a laundry bag. Judging by the way her hair was messed up and her pinafore looked rumpled as well, he'd definitely interrupted something.
“Sorry for butting in like this,” he said apologetically.
“It's fine Sam,”Chloe waved him off. “I should be the one apologizing. We have been kind of leaving you to your own devices the past couple of days.”
Sam shrugged. A few days ago, they'd stumbled into the middle of a war between two packs of vampires. In the confusion, Dean had been turned into a vampire and then through judicial application of Chloe's healing blood, turned again into some kind of half-vampire uber hunter.
As if that particular hunt hadn't been crazy enough, Dean had ended up proposing to Chloe as well. And although she'd shot him down, Sam figured it was only a matter of time before his best friend of the female-shaped persuasion was also his sister-in-law.
It had been a couple of stressful days, so Sam could understand why the two of them would just want to hole up and be together. Particularly since Chloe hadn't exactly said yes. Sam suspected that part of Dean's plan to get her to change her mind was to sex a yes out of her.
Problem was, while the two of them were playing naughty professor, he was left feeling like a third wheel.
He'd spent most of the time reading up on Dhampiers, so that he could help ease Dean's transition into his new metahuman status. Then he'd stumbled across a potential hunt.
“So what have you got?” Dean sat down on the bed and tossed the glasses onto the night table.
“Drowning in a hotel pool.”
“So?” Dean frowned.
“The pool was drained of water at the time.”
“Really?” Dean raised an eyebrow. “Sounds like our kind of gig.”
“And it's aboard the Queen Mary.”
Dean frowned. “You mean that boat in California? The one they turned into a hotel?”
“That's the one,” Sam said.
“I know that ship,” Chloe said. “I did a report on it for history class. It's supposed to be really, really haunted. Like, the ghost population on that ship is supposed to be bigger than some small towns.”
Off Dean and Sam's confused looks, she shrugged. “What? I was interested in the paranormal in high school and you don't get much more haunted than the Queen Mary. But the story about how she was a World War Two transport ship was what I got an A in history class for.”
“Well that's just great,” Dean crossed his arms. “That's going to be like looking for a needle in a haystack factory.”
“There's no such thing,” Sam scoffed.
“So?”