Fic: Love, War and Remembrance (4/5)
Fic: Love, War and Remembrance (4/5)
Series: Special Projects
Summary: Sam visits Sarah. Dean and Chloe figure out what to do with all those tacky gifts that they didn't ask for in the first place.
Author: pen37
Beta: Strangevisitor7
Fandoms: Smallville/Supernatural
Characters: Chloe, Sam, Dean
Pairing:Chloe/Dean
Rating: NC-17
This is a part of the Special Projects series. You can find the rest of the series here.
This fic is dedicated to Clarksmuse. Happy Birthday Katie!
Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5
In the end, Chloe vetoed the bustier. Which made Dean only that much more determined to win the first round of pool. If he got his say, he was going to have her in that outfit at least once. Just thinking of her in it, hair wild and eyes hooded with desire, made him hard.
She'd decided on a green sweater with a plunging neckline that was going to distract him when she shot, and a pair of curve-hugging faded jeans that were going to distract him the rest of the time. As she walked out from around the screen and pulled him off the bed, Dean decided that maybe his wife should be registered as a dangerous weapon in thirty states. Because looking that way had to be lethal.
When they got into the Impala, he pulled her close to his side. With one hand resting on the wheel and the other circling her shoulders, he tried to focus on driving rather than staring at the clovage. When he thought he heard her chuckle, he glanced up to see a knowing smile cross her face.
That did it. She knew what those little bitty shirts with the big necklines did to him. Probably wore it just because she knew it would distract him. Which only strengthened his resolve to not let her get the upper hand in this game.
He focused back on the road and hummed Metallica until they arrived at their destination.
The pool hall wasn't like the kind they found on the road: smoky, dark and filled with bikers. It was larger. Brighter. With wide bay windows across the front. The first five feet in the room were filled with rickety old tables where grizzled men in fedoras played dominoes.
Beyond that, row after row of pool tables served a mixed bag of patrons. Here a group of rainbow-haired twentysomethings shot badly and laughed at one another's skills. There a pair of old women studied their shots with a seriousness that implied that they'd been hobbiests for most of their lives.
Dean could tell that there was no hustling here. If money was put on the table, the management would probably escort whoever did it off the property.
Good thing for him that money wasn't at stake.
“Where'd you find this place?” He asked her.
“Lois brought me here when she taught me how to play,” Chloe said with a shrug. “It's easier to learn when you don't have a bunch of drunks offering free advice.”
She wandered over to a counter where she could rent time and equipment while Dean picked out the table. When she returned, he started transferring the balls to the felt.
“Eight ball or nine ball?” Chloe asked.
“Nine. I'm a betting man,” Dean smirked at her. In response, Chloe picked up her cuestick and started to chalk the end. Dean watched the way she handled the stick and shook his head at the thought of those tiny, sure hands going wherever he directed them.
“You want to go first?” Chloe asked with a faint smile.
“Oh no, ladies first. I insist.”
Dean watched carefully as she shot. The problem with playing nine ball against someone like Chloe was that if she got on a roll and the shots went her way, he wouldn't get the chance to play. But if he could get even one chance, then the game would be over. Because he ruled the table.
She easily sank balls number one two and three. Four was trickier, but she banked the cueball nicely to sink four in the corner pocket. Just as she made the shot for number five, her phone rang. It was distraction enough to throw off her aim.
She cursed under her breath, snatched the phone off her belt, and held it up to her ear. “What?”
She obviously hadn't expected to hear whomever it was on the other end of the line, because her face morphed into an expression of surprise. “Mac? What a coincidence, I was just thinking about you today. Long time.”
Dean tilted his head curiously to the side. But he figured whatever it was, Chloe would fill him in. In the meantime, there was a bet for him to win.
* * *
Chloe turned her back on Dean and the game to talk to Mac without the distraction of watching Dean's broad shoulder muscles bunch and move as he lined up his shots. She was already pretty worked up, thanks to the terms of the bet.
Watching him shoot wouldn't help her carry on a coherent conversation.
“Sully! Long time no see!” Mac's voice had an echo through the phone.
“You alright? You sound like you're talking to me from the inside of a tin can.”
There was a sigh on the other end. “That's because I'm calling you from under a bridge, girl.”
The statement was random enough to catch her attention. “I take it this isn't a social call?”
“Wish it was. I need your help, Sully.”
“What's going on?” Chloe asked in trepidation.
“This isn't a lot of time for catching up,” Mac said. “But in a nutshell - I'm working as a homicide detective in Houston. And I found something that reminds me of Corto Maltese.”
Chloe cursed under her breath.
“My thoughts exactly. You were always good at research, Sully. I wondered if maybe you could help me track these guys down before things get worse.”
“You didn't even have to ask, Mac. I'll be there as soon as I can.” Chloe said with a nod. “Just so you know - I've got a couple of partners now.”
“I'd heard,” Mac said. “You and Dean Winchester. Congratulations.”
Chloe sighed. “Does everyone in the world know already?”
“I stay plugged into the hunter's grapevine,” Mac chuckled. “In my line of work, it's damn useful.”
“Not surprised,” Chloe said. “I'll see you in a few.”
“Catch you when I can, Sully.”
Chloe hung up the phone and turned back to Dean just in time to watch him sink the nine ball in the last pocket.
“So Mac, huh?” Dean said casually.
“Quite a coincidence,” Chloe said.
“You believe in coincidences?” Dean asked.
“Not particularly,” Chloe shook her head.
“Me neither.”
“Anyway, we need to be in Houston ASAP,” Chloe sighed.
“So much for our vacation,” Dean sat the stick down. “Good thing I won our bet.”
“What?” Chloe's eyes narrowed. “No way. There was interference.”
“Because your phone rang?” Dean made a tisking sound and shook his head. “Huh-Uh. You shouldn't have let that distract you.
“Fine,” Chloe made a show of reluctantly giving in to him, but he could see her green eyes sparkle. He smirked at her in response. This was going to be fun.
Series: Special Projects
Summary: Sam visits Sarah. Dean and Chloe figure out what to do with all those tacky gifts that they didn't ask for in the first place.
Author: pen37
Beta: Strangevisitor7
Fandoms: Smallville/Supernatural
Characters: Chloe, Sam, Dean
Pairing:Chloe/Dean
Rating: NC-17
This is a part of the Special Projects series. You can find the rest of the series here.
This fic is dedicated to Clarksmuse. Happy Birthday Katie!
Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5
In the end, Chloe vetoed the bustier. Which made Dean only that much more determined to win the first round of pool. If he got his say, he was going to have her in that outfit at least once. Just thinking of her in it, hair wild and eyes hooded with desire, made him hard.
She'd decided on a green sweater with a plunging neckline that was going to distract him when she shot, and a pair of curve-hugging faded jeans that were going to distract him the rest of the time. As she walked out from around the screen and pulled him off the bed, Dean decided that maybe his wife should be registered as a dangerous weapon in thirty states. Because looking that way had to be lethal.
When they got into the Impala, he pulled her close to his side. With one hand resting on the wheel and the other circling her shoulders, he tried to focus on driving rather than staring at the clovage. When he thought he heard her chuckle, he glanced up to see a knowing smile cross her face.
That did it. She knew what those little bitty shirts with the big necklines did to him. Probably wore it just because she knew it would distract him. Which only strengthened his resolve to not let her get the upper hand in this game.
He focused back on the road and hummed Metallica until they arrived at their destination.
The pool hall wasn't like the kind they found on the road: smoky, dark and filled with bikers. It was larger. Brighter. With wide bay windows across the front. The first five feet in the room were filled with rickety old tables where grizzled men in fedoras played dominoes.
Beyond that, row after row of pool tables served a mixed bag of patrons. Here a group of rainbow-haired twentysomethings shot badly and laughed at one another's skills. There a pair of old women studied their shots with a seriousness that implied that they'd been hobbiests for most of their lives.
Dean could tell that there was no hustling here. If money was put on the table, the management would probably escort whoever did it off the property.
Good thing for him that money wasn't at stake.
“Where'd you find this place?” He asked her.
“Lois brought me here when she taught me how to play,” Chloe said with a shrug. “It's easier to learn when you don't have a bunch of drunks offering free advice.”
She wandered over to a counter where she could rent time and equipment while Dean picked out the table. When she returned, he started transferring the balls to the felt.
“Eight ball or nine ball?” Chloe asked.
“Nine. I'm a betting man,” Dean smirked at her. In response, Chloe picked up her cuestick and started to chalk the end. Dean watched the way she handled the stick and shook his head at the thought of those tiny, sure hands going wherever he directed them.
“You want to go first?” Chloe asked with a faint smile.
“Oh no, ladies first. I insist.”
Dean watched carefully as she shot. The problem with playing nine ball against someone like Chloe was that if she got on a roll and the shots went her way, he wouldn't get the chance to play. But if he could get even one chance, then the game would be over. Because he ruled the table.
She easily sank balls number one two and three. Four was trickier, but she banked the cueball nicely to sink four in the corner pocket. Just as she made the shot for number five, her phone rang. It was distraction enough to throw off her aim.
She cursed under her breath, snatched the phone off her belt, and held it up to her ear. “What?”
She obviously hadn't expected to hear whomever it was on the other end of the line, because her face morphed into an expression of surprise. “Mac? What a coincidence, I was just thinking about you today. Long time.”
Dean tilted his head curiously to the side. But he figured whatever it was, Chloe would fill him in. In the meantime, there was a bet for him to win.
* * *
Chloe turned her back on Dean and the game to talk to Mac without the distraction of watching Dean's broad shoulder muscles bunch and move as he lined up his shots. She was already pretty worked up, thanks to the terms of the bet.
Watching him shoot wouldn't help her carry on a coherent conversation.
“Sully! Long time no see!” Mac's voice had an echo through the phone.
“You alright? You sound like you're talking to me from the inside of a tin can.”
There was a sigh on the other end. “That's because I'm calling you from under a bridge, girl.”
The statement was random enough to catch her attention. “I take it this isn't a social call?”
“Wish it was. I need your help, Sully.”
“What's going on?” Chloe asked in trepidation.
“This isn't a lot of time for catching up,” Mac said. “But in a nutshell - I'm working as a homicide detective in Houston. And I found something that reminds me of Corto Maltese.”
Chloe cursed under her breath.
“My thoughts exactly. You were always good at research, Sully. I wondered if maybe you could help me track these guys down before things get worse.”
“You didn't even have to ask, Mac. I'll be there as soon as I can.” Chloe said with a nod. “Just so you know - I've got a couple of partners now.”
“I'd heard,” Mac said. “You and Dean Winchester. Congratulations.”
Chloe sighed. “Does everyone in the world know already?”
“I stay plugged into the hunter's grapevine,” Mac chuckled. “In my line of work, it's damn useful.”
“Not surprised,” Chloe said. “I'll see you in a few.”
“Catch you when I can, Sully.”
Chloe hung up the phone and turned back to Dean just in time to watch him sink the nine ball in the last pocket.
“So Mac, huh?” Dean said casually.
“Quite a coincidence,” Chloe said.
“You believe in coincidences?” Dean asked.
“Not particularly,” Chloe shook her head.
“Me neither.”
“Anyway, we need to be in Houston ASAP,” Chloe sighed.
“So much for our vacation,” Dean sat the stick down. “Good thing I won our bet.”
“What?” Chloe's eyes narrowed. “No way. There was interference.”
“Because your phone rang?” Dean made a tisking sound and shook his head. “Huh-Uh. You shouldn't have let that distract you.
“Fine,” Chloe made a show of reluctantly giving in to him, but he could see her green eyes sparkle. He smirked at her in response. This was going to be fun.