Fic: Don't Go Out Tonight (4/7)
Fic: Don't Go Out Tonight (4/7)
Summary: The group makes a sudden U turn and goes back to the appalachians to hunt something that might be a headless horseman. Sam covertly tries to keep Chloe from shutting them out.
Author: pen37
Beta: Clarksmuse
Fandoms: Smallville/Supernatural
Characters: Chloe, Sam, Dean
Pairing:Chloe/Dean
Rating: Pg (Halloween fun guys!).
Banner by isisizabel
This is a part of the Special Projects series. You can find the rest of the series here.
Written for the Crossovers100 challenge. Prompt #12 Orange. The table is here.
A/N: Pretty Chloe/Dean art here that I commissioned from Bri-chan.
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7
Sam hung up his cell phone, and shook his head at Chloe. “No luck in setting up an interview with Danny McDonald.”
“Let me guess, Sorghum festival?” Chloe said.
“You too?” Sam raised his eyebrows in surprise.
Chloe nodded. “The teenage girls and Jeremy Swift are all there too - according to their parents.”
“What about the fifth witness. McDonald’s girlfriend?” Sam asked.
“She is a contestant in the Miss Sorghum pageant,” Dean said. “I’m all over that.”
“Of course you are,” Chloe muttered as she turned around to dig through her laptop bag. The moment that Chloe’s back was turned; Sam slapped Dean across the back of the head. Dean turned back around, and frowned at Sam. In response, Sam glared at him, and then looked pointedly at Chloe’s back. Then he glared again, and shook his head.
Dean rolled his eyes in response.
Chloe turned back around, holding a map of the area and completely oblivious to the exchange that just went on over her head. “Okay guys, we’re on a deadline here. Let’s go find our witnesses!”
***
As they pulled up to the open field that had been hastily converted to a parking lot, Chloe frowned out at the street that had been blocked off to allow for the street fair.
“What?” Sam asked.
She shrugged. “Don't you think it's a little odd that all five witnesses are here?”
“What else is there to do in rural Southern Ohio? Sit around and watch paint dry?”
“You have a point,” Chloe nodded. She frowned again as they paid for parking, and then strolled toward the barricades.
“Now what?” Dean asked.
“How are we going to find our witnesses in all of this?”
“Ask around,” Dean said. “I bet everyone knows everyone else. Especially mini-celebrities like the ones who saw the headless horseman.”
They each went their own way in search of the witnesses. Chloe toward the games, Sam to the arts and crafts booths, and Dean ambled over to check out the Sorghum queen pageant.
Within a few minutes of asking around, Dean was directed to Danny McDonald’s girlfriend, Ursela Stephenson. Dean found her practicing a baton-twirling routine in a bathing suit backstage.
Ursela had all of the three B's going for her. Blonde, buxom and barely-legal, with the kind of fresh-faced, ample, Nordic beauty that Dean loved about girls in the Midwest.
“Excuse me, Ms. Stephenson?”
Ursela dropped her baton, and turned to look at him with a cheerfully effervescent expression. “Uh huh?” She gave him a pointed once over. Her eyes lingered on parts of him longer than others. Then she looked back at his face, and smiled. “Are you a judge? Is it time for the . . . interview?”
Dean gave her an amused, wide-eyed grin. Ursela's query was subtexty to the point of being set in thirty point Helvetica - and the fact that he even thought that just proved that he spent so much time with Chloe that . . .
Chloe.
Dean shut his eyes, shook his head, and willed the downstairs brain to behave.
“Baseball,” he muttered.
“What?” Ursela asked.
“Never mind.” Dean shook his head as he tried to remember the batting averages of all of the players for the 1975 Cincinnati Reds. “So . . . Sorghum Queen?”
When she giggled, a tiny little editorial corner of his brain that sounded suspiciously like Chloe suggested that she might have a bright future as a Rhodes scholar.
“Only the sweetest can win.” She ran her tongue along her bottom lip. Dean shut his eyes and cursed his luck as the downstairs brain suggested that he offer to find out just how sweet she was. He bit his tongue, and tried to think of the infield fly rule.
She lifted a tiny hand to her chin in a pose of thinking, chewed on a slender index finger, and gave him a hungry stare. “So are you sure you don't want an interview?”
He smiled nervously. “Thanks, but I was actually hoping to hear about what you saw out at the Scottown covered bridge.”
“Oh,” her lower lip stuck out in an inviting pout. “You sure you want to hear about that?”
Dean swallowed and nodded. “Yeah I'm . . .” he cleared his throat. “All about the truth.”
“Oh,” She shrugged. All coquettishness melted away. She pinned him with a nervous look. “I - my boyfriend Danny and I were just parking. And that thing showed up out of nowhere. It chased us up to the bridge, and then it just . . . vanished. You know?”
“That's it?”
“Well - yeah.” She shook her head. “I know it sounds crazy. But it was real! We were terrified.”
“Can you describe it?” he asked.
“I'll never forget it.” She shivered and crossed her arms. “It was eight foot tall, and it didn't have a head. Just a hole between its shoulders. It was wearing this cape thing. Like what you see in the movies.”
Dean nodded. “Thanks, Ursela. And good luck in the pageant.”
She nodded uneasily, picked up her batons, and gave him an appraising look. “You sure you don't want to conduct an in-depth --”
“Gee, look at the time!” Dean glanced at his watch as he backed away. He turned and sprinted into the crowd.
As he wove his way through the throng of people, he spotted Sam from up the street.
Even with his habitual slump, Sam still towered over everyone else. As Dean got closer, he could see that Sam was standing against the back wall of a concessions booth, talking to a pair of preteen girls. Dean guessed that they were the two witnesses on their list. Or had at least talked to the witnesses. At any rate - their odds were looking good.
He spotted Dean, and nodded that he would be over in a minute. Dean watched with amusement as the girls checked Sam out when he wasn't looking. He finished his conversation and smiled at them. They giggled to each other, and waved as he walked away.
Dean grinned at him, and punched his shoulder playfully. “Sammy, you sly dog.”
Sam gave him a disgusted look. “Two words, Dean: Jail and Bait.”
“Just sayin' that they think you're cute.” Dean shrugged as he joined the concessions line.
“Whatever,” Sam said.
“So what did they say?”
“They were playing truth or dare at a slumber party, and the dare was that they had to sneak out, go down to the covered bridge, get a jar full of water from the creek, and then sneak back in.”
“And they encountered our headless horseman along the way?” Dean asked. He stepped up to the window, and placed an order for three cheeseburgers, fries and drinks. They carried the food to a picnic table to wait for Chloe.
“That's exactly what they said,” Sam nodded once they'd sat down. “According to their story, it chased them to the bridge.”
“So what did they say that it looked like?”
Sam shrugged. “Six foot tall, flames coming out of its eyes.”
“What eyes?” Dean said. “I thought it was headless?”
“They said that it had its head under one arm.”
“Ursela missed that detail,” Dean muttered before biting into his burger.
“Who is Ursela?” Sam asked as he picked up his drink.
Dean shook his head. “Nevermind.” He sprayed crumbs all over the table.
“Dude!” Sam shook his head in disgust. As he turned his head, he straightened up, as if spotting someone suddenly. He stood abruptly and waved off into the crowd. “Chloe! Over here.”
As Dean turned to watch the crowd in the direction that Sam had been waving, Chloe emerged from the crowd, plopped down next to Dean, and helped herself to his fries. “I found Jeremy Swift.”
“That's four of the five witnesses then,” Sam said as he added mustard to his hamburger. “If we don’t find Danny McDonald, I won’t be too broken up. What did Jeremy Swift have to say?”
“Not much - He was the winner of the hot dog eating contest so he was busy puking his guts out. But his best friend told me that Jeremy's car broke down on route 217 near the Scottown bridge. The horseman allegedly chased him to the bridge and then just vanished.”
“What did he look like?” Sam asked.
“No head. Bloody gushing stump for a neck. Carrying an axe.”
“None of these stories exactly matches,” Dean observed around his burger.
“Which isn't unusual,” Chloe said. “The human mind tends to fill in details.”
“Yeah, but when the stories are that different, it's more of a sign of a local legend than an actual haunting.” Dean said.
“Looks like we're going to have to go out to that bridge and get our own answers,” Sam sighed.
Summary: The group makes a sudden U turn and goes back to the appalachians to hunt something that might be a headless horseman. Sam covertly tries to keep Chloe from shutting them out.
Author: pen37
Beta: Clarksmuse
Fandoms: Smallville/Supernatural
Characters: Chloe, Sam, Dean
Pairing:Chloe/Dean
Rating: Pg (Halloween fun guys!).
Banner by isisizabel
This is a part of the Special Projects series. You can find the rest of the series here.
Written for the Crossovers100 challenge. Prompt #12 Orange. The table is here.
A/N: Pretty Chloe/Dean art here that I commissioned from Bri-chan.
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7
Sam hung up his cell phone, and shook his head at Chloe. “No luck in setting up an interview with Danny McDonald.”
“Let me guess, Sorghum festival?” Chloe said.
“You too?” Sam raised his eyebrows in surprise.
Chloe nodded. “The teenage girls and Jeremy Swift are all there too - according to their parents.”
“What about the fifth witness. McDonald’s girlfriend?” Sam asked.
“She is a contestant in the Miss Sorghum pageant,” Dean said. “I’m all over that.”
“Of course you are,” Chloe muttered as she turned around to dig through her laptop bag. The moment that Chloe’s back was turned; Sam slapped Dean across the back of the head. Dean turned back around, and frowned at Sam. In response, Sam glared at him, and then looked pointedly at Chloe’s back. Then he glared again, and shook his head.
Dean rolled his eyes in response.
Chloe turned back around, holding a map of the area and completely oblivious to the exchange that just went on over her head. “Okay guys, we’re on a deadline here. Let’s go find our witnesses!”
***
As they pulled up to the open field that had been hastily converted to a parking lot, Chloe frowned out at the street that had been blocked off to allow for the street fair.
“What?” Sam asked.
She shrugged. “Don't you think it's a little odd that all five witnesses are here?”
“What else is there to do in rural Southern Ohio? Sit around and watch paint dry?”
“You have a point,” Chloe nodded. She frowned again as they paid for parking, and then strolled toward the barricades.
“Now what?” Dean asked.
“How are we going to find our witnesses in all of this?”
“Ask around,” Dean said. “I bet everyone knows everyone else. Especially mini-celebrities like the ones who saw the headless horseman.”
They each went their own way in search of the witnesses. Chloe toward the games, Sam to the arts and crafts booths, and Dean ambled over to check out the Sorghum queen pageant.
Within a few minutes of asking around, Dean was directed to Danny McDonald’s girlfriend, Ursela Stephenson. Dean found her practicing a baton-twirling routine in a bathing suit backstage.
Ursela had all of the three B's going for her. Blonde, buxom and barely-legal, with the kind of fresh-faced, ample, Nordic beauty that Dean loved about girls in the Midwest.
“Excuse me, Ms. Stephenson?”
Ursela dropped her baton, and turned to look at him with a cheerfully effervescent expression. “Uh huh?” She gave him a pointed once over. Her eyes lingered on parts of him longer than others. Then she looked back at his face, and smiled. “Are you a judge? Is it time for the . . . interview?”
Dean gave her an amused, wide-eyed grin. Ursela's query was subtexty to the point of being set in thirty point Helvetica - and the fact that he even thought that just proved that he spent so much time with Chloe that . . .
Chloe.
Dean shut his eyes, shook his head, and willed the downstairs brain to behave.
“Baseball,” he muttered.
“What?” Ursela asked.
“Never mind.” Dean shook his head as he tried to remember the batting averages of all of the players for the 1975 Cincinnati Reds. “So . . . Sorghum Queen?”
When she giggled, a tiny little editorial corner of his brain that sounded suspiciously like Chloe suggested that she might have a bright future as a Rhodes scholar.
“Only the sweetest can win.” She ran her tongue along her bottom lip. Dean shut his eyes and cursed his luck as the downstairs brain suggested that he offer to find out just how sweet she was. He bit his tongue, and tried to think of the infield fly rule.
She lifted a tiny hand to her chin in a pose of thinking, chewed on a slender index finger, and gave him a hungry stare. “So are you sure you don't want an interview?”
He smiled nervously. “Thanks, but I was actually hoping to hear about what you saw out at the Scottown covered bridge.”
“Oh,” her lower lip stuck out in an inviting pout. “You sure you want to hear about that?”
Dean swallowed and nodded. “Yeah I'm . . .” he cleared his throat. “All about the truth.”
“Oh,” She shrugged. All coquettishness melted away. She pinned him with a nervous look. “I - my boyfriend Danny and I were just parking. And that thing showed up out of nowhere. It chased us up to the bridge, and then it just . . . vanished. You know?”
“That's it?”
“Well - yeah.” She shook her head. “I know it sounds crazy. But it was real! We were terrified.”
“Can you describe it?” he asked.
“I'll never forget it.” She shivered and crossed her arms. “It was eight foot tall, and it didn't have a head. Just a hole between its shoulders. It was wearing this cape thing. Like what you see in the movies.”
Dean nodded. “Thanks, Ursela. And good luck in the pageant.”
She nodded uneasily, picked up her batons, and gave him an appraising look. “You sure you don't want to conduct an in-depth --”
“Gee, look at the time!” Dean glanced at his watch as he backed away. He turned and sprinted into the crowd.
As he wove his way through the throng of people, he spotted Sam from up the street.
Even with his habitual slump, Sam still towered over everyone else. As Dean got closer, he could see that Sam was standing against the back wall of a concessions booth, talking to a pair of preteen girls. Dean guessed that they were the two witnesses on their list. Or had at least talked to the witnesses. At any rate - their odds were looking good.
He spotted Dean, and nodded that he would be over in a minute. Dean watched with amusement as the girls checked Sam out when he wasn't looking. He finished his conversation and smiled at them. They giggled to each other, and waved as he walked away.
Dean grinned at him, and punched his shoulder playfully. “Sammy, you sly dog.”
Sam gave him a disgusted look. “Two words, Dean: Jail and Bait.”
“Just sayin' that they think you're cute.” Dean shrugged as he joined the concessions line.
“Whatever,” Sam said.
“So what did they say?”
“They were playing truth or dare at a slumber party, and the dare was that they had to sneak out, go down to the covered bridge, get a jar full of water from the creek, and then sneak back in.”
“And they encountered our headless horseman along the way?” Dean asked. He stepped up to the window, and placed an order for three cheeseburgers, fries and drinks. They carried the food to a picnic table to wait for Chloe.
“That's exactly what they said,” Sam nodded once they'd sat down. “According to their story, it chased them to the bridge.”
“So what did they say that it looked like?”
Sam shrugged. “Six foot tall, flames coming out of its eyes.”
“What eyes?” Dean said. “I thought it was headless?”
“They said that it had its head under one arm.”
“Ursela missed that detail,” Dean muttered before biting into his burger.
“Who is Ursela?” Sam asked as he picked up his drink.
Dean shook his head. “Nevermind.” He sprayed crumbs all over the table.
“Dude!” Sam shook his head in disgust. As he turned his head, he straightened up, as if spotting someone suddenly. He stood abruptly and waved off into the crowd. “Chloe! Over here.”
As Dean turned to watch the crowd in the direction that Sam had been waving, Chloe emerged from the crowd, plopped down next to Dean, and helped herself to his fries. “I found Jeremy Swift.”
“That's four of the five witnesses then,” Sam said as he added mustard to his hamburger. “If we don’t find Danny McDonald, I won’t be too broken up. What did Jeremy Swift have to say?”
“Not much - He was the winner of the hot dog eating contest so he was busy puking his guts out. But his best friend told me that Jeremy's car broke down on route 217 near the Scottown bridge. The horseman allegedly chased him to the bridge and then just vanished.”
“What did he look like?” Sam asked.
“No head. Bloody gushing stump for a neck. Carrying an axe.”
“None of these stories exactly matches,” Dean observed around his burger.
“Which isn't unusual,” Chloe said. “The human mind tends to fill in details.”
“Yeah, but when the stories are that different, it's more of a sign of a local legend than an actual haunting.” Dean said.
“Looks like we're going to have to go out to that bridge and get our own answers,” Sam sighed.