Those Three Words (3/?)
Title: Those Three Words
Authors: xtremeroswellia and clarksmuse
Rating: R to NC-17
Pairing: Chlean (Chloe/Dean)
Disclaimer: We don't own these characters. We just love them and wanted to play with them, that's all! Please don't sue...
One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Twelve | Thirteen | Fourteen | Fifteen | Sixteen A | Sixteen B | Seventeen | Eighteen | Cocnlusion
Three o'clock. Dean noted the time as he packed up his stuff to take to Chloe's apartment. "Dude," he called to Sam, "you gonna call Chloe now or what? We've got to get moving!"
"No. You call her," he said in a bored tone from where he sat on his bed, reading a book
"Hell, no, I'm not calling her," he retorted hotly. "She'd rather talk to you. Goodnight, Sam," he mocked slightly, still feeling the burn of her ignoring him last night.
Sam smirked behind his book, immensely enjoying the fact that for once a girl Dean liked wasn't throwing herself at him. "Well personally I'm fine staying here."
"Here." Dean threw his cell at Sam, nearly hitting his head. "Just call her for me? Number's in there." He motioned towards his phone, which Sam had still not picked up.
"What's wrong? Lost your touch with the ladies?" he teased, still not making a move to pick up the phone.
Sammy was deliberately baiting him, Dean realized. Which just pissed him off more. "It's more than you've ever had," he snapped, grabbing the phone and finding Chloe's number. With a frustrated sigh, he hit 'send' and waited for her to answer. Surprisingly she did after the first ring.
"Hello?" She'd just walked in the door as the phone rang and she scooped it up quickly, a little breathless.
"Chloe? It's Dean." His flat tone betrayed nothing of the tightening he felt in his stomach over hearing her breathless voice. "You home now? We're heading over."
"Yeah, I'm here. Come on over."
"OK." He heard her breathing ease just a little and paused, not wanting to hang up just yet. "What's wrong with you?"
"What?" Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Nothing."
"Alright, then. See you in a little while." Dean hung up before she had a chance to say anything else. He looked at Sam, who was smiling smugly behind his book. "You want me to beat that look off your face?" he threatened, grabbing his bag.
Sam snorted and stood up, tucking his book in his bag. "I'm real worried about that."
"Yeah, you should be," Dean mumbled under his breath. He hated the look on Sammy's face as they left the hotel room and got in the car. Compound that with the intense desire to see Chloe again, and he had a real problem. So, starting the car and throwing it into drive, he turned on music that would deliberately irritate Sam as they drove to Chloe's apartment, several miles away.
Knowing he'd succeeded in annoying his brother was enough to keep Sam's spirits high as they drove to Chloe's. When they arrived, he grinned and climbed out of the car, grabbing his bag and heading toward the apartment building.
The drive to Chloe's place should have been more... fun, Dean thought as he and Sam trudged up the steps to her door. And even more annoying was the fact that, when Dean knocked on her door and Chloe answered, she smiled warmly at Sam while barely acknowledging his presence.
"Hey Chloe," Sam greeted her back just as warmly... and noted her deliberate attempt to ignore Dean. "Good to see you again."
"Good to see you too. Come on in." She stepped aside to let them in. "Sam, you guys had dinner yet?"
"No, actually, we're starving, thanks for asking." Dean couldn't help it: being ignored was something he hated, especially when... He shook off that thought immediately when Chloe threw him a glaring look.
"Actually, Chloe, I thought we'd order a pizza, if that's okay." Sam winked at Dean, reminding him of how they had found her to begin with.
"Well, I guess that's up to you, but I've got spaghetti on the stove and garlic bread in the oven," she told them.
"Really?" Sam replied, looking sideways at Dean. "Hey, I'm up for anything right now, so that sounds great too." He led the way into Chloe's apartment and dropped his bag on the floor, and taking Dean's, he said, "And I think Dean should help you set the table and stuff."
Dean stared at Sam, his eyes wide as saucers. Boy, if anyone needed a kick in the ass, it was his brother. He gave Chloe a wry grin and said, "I'll set the table if you show me where the stuff is." He watched Sam grab his book from his bag and sit down, becoming engrossed in his book again.
Forgetting to keep her guard up for a moment, she offered Dean a smile in return and headed into the kitchen. "Plates are in the cabinet above the sink," she said as she moved to stir the spaghetti.
"Thanks," he said softly, moving into the already too small kitchen. In fact, he bumped into her: she turned to move to the sink just as he reached it and was going to get out the dishes. "Sorry," he mumbled, a little embarrassed and not a little angry at Sammy for putting him in such close quarters with this irritatingly beautiful woman.
"It's okay," she said, glancing at him from the corner of her eye. "Silverware's in the drawer beside the dishwasher."
Convinced that he was the only one who felt the attraction, he nodded mutely and grabbed the silverware out of the drawer and slammed it shut. He felt her look at him quizzically, so he simply said, "Sorry," and took the silverware and plates to the table without looking at her.
From his view behind his book, Sam could have laughed out loud at the scene he was witnessing. Two more hard-headed people he had never met, and the fact that they liked each other would prove a nice distraction from the hells of whatever job they had to fulfill.
Chloe watched Dean as he set the table and she shook her head slightly before turning back to the stove. She picked up the pot of spaghetti and carried it to the table carefully. "You guys... do like spaghetti right?" Her voice was hesitant.
Sam leapt out of his chair and immediately took the pot from Chloe's hands. "Are you kidding?" he asked, setting it on the table. "Love the stuff. Don't we, Dean?"
Lost in his own personal hell, Dean accidentally clattered the remaining silverware on the table at the sound of Sam's voice. "Yeah, anything homemade is worth eating."
Chloe reached out to pick up the silverware at the same time Dean did and their hands brushed against one another. A shiver passed over her involuntarily and she swallowed hard.
Chloe's touch sent a jolt of electricity throughout Dean's body, making him more aware of her physical presence than ever. Clearing his throat, he managed to say, "I've got it," before he lost the ability to speak momentarily. He sat down beside her, with Sam on his left. Sam looked all too pleased with himself, as if he had managed to cheat on a test and not get caught.
She drew in a breath and let it out slowly, scooping spaghetti onto each of their plates. "So where are you guys from, anyway?"
Dean immediately dug into his dinner, his stomach taking precedent over any small talk they might make. Besides, he'd rather hear her voice and make Sam do all the talking. He saw Sam throw him a look, making Dean slow down and enjoy the meal a little bit.
"We're from Lawrence, Kansas, originally," Sam answered her when Dean continued to say nothing. "How about you?"
She paused, looking at him in surprise. "You're from Kansas," she repeated.
Sam nodded, seeing the surprise register on her face. Before he could ask anything, however, Dean wiped his mouth and said, "Yeah, Kansas boys. Sounds like you're from there, too." He stated it as a fact, not a question. Just something to keep her talking.
"Yeah, I am actually. Metropolis, originally." She lowered her gaze to her plate.
"Whoa," Dean said quietly. "Big city girl, huh? You miss it?"
A faint, somewhat bitter smile touched her lips. "Yes and no," she said softly.
"What... do you mean by that?" Sam asked her, genuinely curious about her strange response. Dean, just as curious, chose instead to take another bite of the dwindling pile of pasta on his plate, saying, "Good grub."
"It's sort of a long story," Chloe said, not looking up. She glanced at Dean. "Glad you like it."
Wiping his mouth again, Dean looked at her and a ghost of a smile crossed his features. "I'm gonna grab seconds, if that's okay with dorkface over there." He looked at Sammy, who had barely touched his dinner for asking twenty questions.
"Yeah, yeah help yourself," Sam responded, wondering about Chloe's strange non-answer but dropping the subject. "So if you've only been in Cleveland for a few months, you must not know where this Hellmouth thing is, huh?"
She paused and looked at him. "Cleveland is the Hellmouth, Sam," she said seriously. "All of it."
Sam laughed in surprise. "No, really." When Chloe said nothing, only stared at him while taking several bites of her dinner, he looked down at his suddenly and lost his appetite. "Wow," he murmured. "You mean, I'm sitting on top of this thing... right now?"
"Yeah, I believe that's what the lady is saying," Dean retorted between bites, understanding that what she was telling them was the truth.
"So there's all kinds of great stuff to kill around here, huh?" he asked her, sneaking a quick look her way before taking another mouthful.
"Great's over-stating it," she answered, taking a drink of her water. She let out a breath and sat back in her chair, having lost her own appetite. "But yeah. There's plenty of nasties to go around."
Dean seemed to be the only one who still remotely wanted to eat... which compelled him to put down his fork. "But that's a good thing," he remarked. "We've killed more than our fair share of demons, so with the three of us out there, we can seriously do some damage." He deliberately omitted the fact that he wanted to see how kick-ass of a fighter she was, too.
"Four of us," she corrected.
Four? Dean thought and looked around the room. He went through the motions of counting heads in the room. "Unless I've forgotten how to count, there's only three of us," he countered despite the eye roll he got from his brother.
"That's because you haven't met Spike yet," she said with a faint smile as she stood up, taking her plate over to the sink.
"Spike?" Sam asked with uncertainty. He looked at Dean, who snorted with laughter. "You know someone named... Spike?"
"Well, actually that's his nickname. His real name is William." She chuckled softly.
William. He. Dean heard those two words and felt his stomach -- and his heart -- sink into the floor. "Sounds like you two are quite cozy, Blondie," he muttered a little too harshly. Great, just what I need, another know-it-all around me, he thought.
Sam glanced at Dean and saw the emotions cross his face. And knew he was as jealous as hell. Smiling a little, Sam turned back to Chloe and innocently asked, "So, how do you know William? er, Spike?"
Chloe laughed out loud at the implication. "Not like that. He's a little too old for me," she said with a smirk as she moved to clear Sam's plate off the table too. "He's...my unofficial Watcher."
"A... Watcher?" Dean smirked, taking his own plate from the table and putting it in the sink. "Uh huh... he... watches you, then?"
"Shut the hell up, Dean," Sam butted in, helping Chloe clean off the table. "What's a Watcher, Chloe? Never heard of that before."
She smirked at Dean's comment, and then turned to look at Sam. "Back in the day... every Slayer had one person from the Watcher's Council assigned to her to help train and guide her. Help with research. That kind of thing. But the Watcher's Council disbanded after there was some trouble with the last two Slayers."
Sam nodded, frowning. "So... there's not a Watcher's Council anymore?" he asked. "What happened to cause that?"
Chloe drew in a breath. "I don't know the whole story," she admitted. "But apparently one of the last Slayers turned to the dark side and the other one quit working for the council and went rogue."
"So you never actually met these other... Slayers," Dean commented from the seat he had taken at the table again. "And for all we know, they could be out there doing evil things."
She turned to look at him. "I'd say the likelihood of that is pretty much none."
"Really?" Dean responded, crossing his arms. "And why is that, exactly? If one's evil and the other's a rogue, which means she could be evil, then --"
"Cut it out, Dean, for God's sake," Sam interrupted again. "Can you just for once take her at her word?"
"Because they're both dead," Chloe said distantly.
Dean blinked in surprise to her flat, unemotional response. Both dead? That meant... "So you're not completely indestructible," Dean said out loud, looking down at his hands, speaking more to himself.
Sam, on the other hand, was furious at Dean's insensitive statement. He grabbed Dean by the jacket and hauled him to his feet. A shocked Dean looked into his brother's angry eyes. "What the hell are you talking about?" Sam yelled at his brother.
A second later, Chloe had pulled him away from Dean, one hand on each of their chests to keep them separated. "Chill out, guys. Everyone just relax." She looked at Sam briefly, her eyes filled with sadness. "It's okay." She turned to Dean. "No, I'm not completely indestructible. I'm still human. I just...have certain abilities that not everyone else does." She let out a breath. "And that's how the Slayer line works. One dies, another is called."
"So... let me get this straight," Dean said, straightening his jacket as he shot Sammy a go to hell look. "You're a Slayer because.... others are dead? Dude, that's fucked up." Dean stared at Chloe, trying to get her to understand his meaning, that he knew the pain of being alive even though others were dead. He started to put his hand on her arm in comfort but stopped before he touched her.
She pulled away from him, tears glittering in her eyes before she could blink them back. "Tell me about it," she said bitterly, retreating into the kitchen once more to do the dishes.
Sam looked at Dean that told him to help her with the dishes before moving into the living area and grabbing their father's journal from his bag to study it, find anything specific to the Cleveland area they should be on the lookout for.
Dean took the hint from his brother and picked up a clean towel from the sink. "Here, I'll help you dry them off," he offered, watching her fill up the sink with soap and water.
"I've got it," she said without turning around.
"Oh good," he responded, grabbing a wet, clean pot from her grasp, "because for a second there I thought you really had everything together." Sighing in frustration, he whispered, "Please, let me help? I don't offer my services that often, you know." He threw a soft smile at her, not knowing if she saw it or not.
Chloe let out a breath, still not looking at him. "I didn't choose this life. It chose me."
Chuckling, Dean dried the pan and put is aside to be put up later. "Well, that's something we have in common then," he replied, grabbing another pot out of her hand, their fingertips brushing again as he did so.
"Yeah, but you enjoy it," she stated, turning to look at him.
Dean saw the sadness and despair in her eyes and frowned. "Hell yeah, I enjoy it. Kicking some demon ass? Always a good time. The question is: why don't you? I mean, if you were chosen to do this..."
"No one knows why Slayers are chosen. They just are. Destiny, fate...whatever. But this isn't the life I planned for myself," she admitted, leaning against the sink. "Don't get me wrong. I like helping people. And ridding the world of evil. It's just..."
"You don't like the idea of something else having a say-so over your life, right?" he asked, looking at her with genuine concern in his eyes.
Chloe managed a faint smile. "That factors in."
Ah. A smile, Dean thought as he resumed his task. He felt like he was finally getting somewhere with her. "There's something else?" he asked. "Because I gotta say, this job sure don't suck."
She folded her arms across her chest. "Except the part where I probably won't make it to my 20th birthday," she said wryly before turning back to wash more dishes.
"Bullshit," Dean whispered in response. "I've been doing this for a helluva lot longer than you have, and I'm still around. You learn to survive." He grabbed the last clean plate out of her hand and dried it thoroughly. And a little too vigorously, for he nearly broke the plate in anger over the thought of her dying.
"Slayers don't tend to have a very long lifespan," she admitted. "I don't just hunt things. They hunt me too."
That comment made Dean think about the demon his father had been hunting all his life. The thing that killed his and Sam's mother. The thing that was hunting them, just as they were hunting it. He nodded silently, understanding her more than she knew.
Chloe let out a breath. "I promise I’m not always this depressing to be around," she said, attempting to lighten her voice.
Dean shook off her comment with a laugh. "I guess that's the cue for me to make some off-the-wall comment and make you glare at me," he remarked, putting the clean dishes back in the cabinet and resting against it to look at her.
A real grin tugged at her lips. "Well, you are good at doing that."
Dean smiled in response as he looked at her. "Hey, got to hone my natural skills, sweetheart." With that, he shrugged off his jacket, threw it over one of the chairs and went over to where Sam was sitting. "Hey, loser," he said loudly, "what snooze-worthy stuff you reading now?"
"Uh, not a lot," Sam responded, not paying any attention to Dean's attempts at impressing Chloe. "I'm just searching through Dad's journal for any mention of Cleveland... other than what I already showed you."
"Well...if you wanna save yourself some trouble..." Chloe moved into the living room as well and motioned to the computer. "I've chronicled everything I've encountered so far, as well as all the not-so-normal deaths in the past couple of years. I'm still working on that part, though."
Sam stood up and moved over to Chloe's computer, smiling widely. "I'm glad to know there are other people out there who keeps track of this stuff," he replied with excitement. "Can I take a peek?"
"Take a peek," Dean grumbled, narrowing his eyes at Sammy and his close proximity to Chloe herself.
"Of course." She moved over and turned on the computer, perching on the edge of the desk while he sat in the chair. "I've actually started a database of everything. It's slow-going but..." She shrugged, smiling.
"Maybe we can work together to build your database using our dad's journal," Sam replied as he pulled up the information she had. "He's done quite a bit of research over the years during these hunts he's done." The fact that they could be of use to Chloe and her job gave him a sense of usefulness.
Meanwhile, Dean was growing restless. "And what am I supposed to do while you guys are playing computer geek? Sit around and knit a sweater?" He was itching for a fight of some kind suddenly. And it had nothing to do with the fact that he was jealous of how well Sam got along with Chloe.
Chloe leaned a little closer to Sam. "I'm getting the feeling your brother is the type that has to be entertained 24/7," she said with a short chuckle.
"You have no idea," Sam said softly, throwing a hateful look Dean's way. Dean just muttered some curse under his breath but managed to stay quiet, for the moment.
Turning back to the screen, Sam asked, "So, what have you written down so far?"
"Well..." She turned around to face the keyboard and typed a string of rapid commands, pulling up the database she'd been working on which chronicled everything she'd encountered, killed, where it had been, and when. "See for yourself." She glanced at Dean. "Wanna see my arsenal?" she asked lifting an eyebrow.
Sam was impressed by the articles and information Chloe had already collected. It contained everything from the standard variety list of demons and vamps to stranger stuff, like women being able to control men through pheromones and murderers doing the disappearing act to avoid the cops. "Whoa," he replied, impressed with the sheer number of things she had come across. "I'd say you've been doing this list for more than a couple years, unless Metropolis has more weirdos than you think."
He knew Chloe didn't hear him, though, because she was too busy showing Dean her chest of weapons.
Dean's eyes lit up at the thought of checking out her chest... of weapons. "Hell, yes," he said, almost joyfully leaping out of his seat and moving to her. "Show me what you got."
Smirking at his eagerness, she led the way to her bedroom and opened her closet. Pulling out the large trunk first, she motioned to it, then pushed her clothes to one side of the closet, showing him the large selection of axes, stakes, bows and arrows, knives and other weaponry that hung on the closet wall. She tucked some hair behind her ear, barely able to hide a smile at his look of shock.
This definitely put his meager set of weapons to shame, Dean realized, not able to hide the shock on his face. Picking up a small crossbow, he looked at her and said, "Who's your dealer?" He smiled a little too happily at being in her room, checking out her weapons. "Where did you get all this stuff?"
"Some of it came from Spike. Some of it I bought. I took the rest off various demons and vamps," she told him, resting her hands on her hips.
"Dude," he said, awed by her weaponry. "You whittle your own stakes?" He picked up one and rolled it around in his hands, flipping it and itching to demonstrate his demon ass-kicking skills to her.
"It's not hard." Chloe shrugged. "Keep it. I've got plenty more." She knelt down on the floor and opened the large trunk. She pulled out a couple bottles of holy water. "You should keep a couple of these on hand too." She handed him one.
Dean stashed the stake in his back pocket, making a mental note to put it in his jacket later. He crouched down by her and took the holy water from her outstretched hands. Their fingers brushed each other, making Dean's body react at the electricity that zinged between them. Awkwardly, he stood up and went back to gaze at her closet of weapons. "Thanks," he muttered. "So, when do we get to meet this Spike guy? What's his story?"
A short chuckle escaped her involuntarily. "Spike's story is...very very long and colorful. I'll let him tell you about it. He may be out tonight when I go patrolling. You'll meet him soon, I'm sure." She stood up as well. "Speaking of which." She glanced toward the window and drew in a breath. "The sun is starting to set," she said grimly, reaching into the closet and grabbing her jean jacket. She
shrugged into it and then grabbed a couple stakes from the wall, sliding one in the sleeve of her coat and the other in one of the loops on her jeans. She headed into the bathroom, pulling her hair back into a ponytail to keep the hair out of her eyes.
Watching her get ready for what she called "patrolling", Dean rushed out into the main room and grabbed his jacket. "Sammy, I'm going out with Chloe."
Turning from her computer, Sam smiled. "Alright, got somewhere with her, huh?" he whispered to keep her from hearing.
"Shut up, man," Dean shot back. "She's going out hunting, and I'm going with her." As Chloe appeared in the main room, Dean gazed at Chloe and repeated, "I'm going with you. Now. Tonight."
Chloe hesitated a moment, then nodded. "Sam, I've got my cell on," she told him as she headed for the door.
"OK," Sam replied and turned back to the computer screen. "Call if you need anything. And keep Shortie from getting himself killed." He missed the hateful look Dean shot back at him as he and Chloe left the apartment.
Dean tucked the stake and holy water in his jacket pockets, pulling out his keys. "We driving?"
She raised an eyebrow. "Kinda hard to fight vamps in car," she teased. elbowing him lightly in the ribs.
Dean raised an eyebrow at her but laughed in response. "Alright, I guess we're walking. Gotta get something out of the truck first." He ran to the car and popped the trunk, reaching for the latch to open the false bottom and show off his own set of weapons.
"Oh nice," she said, leaning down to gaze at the weaponry. "I should get one of these for my trunk," she remarked.
Dean smiled as he grabbed a gun and a couple more stakes before closing it again. "Hey, I can install it for you. Easiest thing in the world," he remarked, secretly relieved to know he had impressed her. He tucked everything into his jacket and turned to look at her.
"That'd be great," she said with a grin.
Dean grinned back at her, the sense of some sort of bonding falling between them. "Just say the word and I'll do it. So," he continued, "for someone who doesn't like to go out and hunt, you sure seemed pumped up about it."
"Oh, I didn't say I didn't like it. I just said it wasn't what I'd planned for my future," she told him as they started to walk down the sidewalk.
Falling into an easy stride with her, he said, "Then, if this destiny thing hadn't have happened to you, what did you want to do with your life?"
A sad, wistful smile touched her lips. "I wanted to be the Daily Planet's top investigative reporter. I grew up reading that paper every day and wanting to work there and expose the truth in whatever form that took. I was actually on my second internship there when I got called for this. Probably sounds dull to you," she said softly.
"Maybe a little," he replied conversationally, "but then, I'm more of a shoot first, ask questions later kind of guy. Sammy, on the other hand, loves that kind of stuff." They walked on for a few minutes in silence before Dean asked, "Don't you think you could still be a reporter? Maybe not at the Daily Planet but... around here?"
"Slaying pretty much takes up my time," she admitted. "And quite frankly...I don't know of too many decent papers that will print articles on how to kill a vampire in five easy steps."
Dean couldn't help it: he threw his head back and laughed loudly. "Now that's a newspaper I'd subscribe to," he said with a grin... before hearing a noise coming from their right. "Hear that?" he whispered, stopping her with a touch.
"Yeah. That's just Larry," she told him. "Come on." She began to walk again.
"Who the hell's Larry?" Dean asked, clearly confused as he strode quickly to catch up with her.
She flashed him a grin. "An informant of sorts."
"Ah, the kind you kick the crap out of when you need information," he responded a little playfully. "I get it. Chloe can kick ass." They walked along in companionable silence, definitely a change from the night before, he thought.
She suddenly paused in her tracks, stilling him with one hand as she stopped to listen.
Dean stopped, watching her look around and listen carefully. He didn't know what she had heard, but he knew better than to interrupt. He looked into the darkness and found... only darkness. "Where?" he finally whispered, reaching into his pocket for one of the stakes.
Slowly, Chloe looked up, her eyes widening a little. She quickly pushed Dean out of the way as three vampires sprang down from the roof of the apartment building beside them, one tackling her to the ground.
"Dammit," he muttered as he felt the power of her push that knocked him to the ground. He jumped up, however, and barreled into one of the vamps that was trying to hold her down, getting several good punches in before the thing threw him back a few feet. Not willing to give up, he went after it again, this time knocking it down and staking it in the heart before it had a chance to hit him again.
The vamp poofed into dust, which surprised Dean. Not something he expected.
Seconds later she was on her feet, a pissed off expression on her face as she glared at the two remaining vampires. As if realizing they'd jumped the wrong people, they took off in different directions. Without hesitation Chloe chased after the larger of the two, tackling and staking him within less than half a block.
Dean ran after the last vamp, who clearly decided getting dusted was not worth it. "Come here," he muttered as he caught up to the thing, swung it around and staked it before it knew what hit it. Watching the dust settle, he coughed and shook his hands clean of the vampire dust. "God, these things are messy," he said out loud. "They don't do this where I come from." He didn't realize Chloe had
appeared behind him and so jumped a little when she touched his arm.
"Sorry," she said, not a bit winded. "What do you mean they don't do this where you come from?"
"You gotta cut off the heads," Dean replied, wondering how she couldn't be short of breath after that. "Gets kinda messy. Why aren't you winded?" he asked, a little jealous.
"Slayer stamina," she said, a twinkle of mischievousness in her eyes and a smirk tugging at her lips.
Dean grinned at the twinkle in her eyes and started thinking about things that was way too distracting. "Stamina, huh?" he asked, clearly impressed. "Would that apply to other areas of your life, as well?" He started walking again as if nothing had happened.
"Wouldn't you like to know?" She smirked again as she led him toward the cemetery.
"How many ways can I say yes?" he muttered to himself, hoping that stamina didn't come with super hearing as well. He followed her into the cemetery, the darkness following closely at his heels. "Great, a cemetery. Perfect spot for killing vamps."
"Nice job back there, by the way," she told him as she jumped over the locked gate and waited for him to do the same.
"Told you I could kick some ass," he responded, easily jumping the fence. "But why did you go after the big one? It's not like I couldn't have done it."
Chloe rolled her eyes. "Don't go all macho on me. It was just instinct."
"Macho?" Dean retorted as they crept their way through the dark cemetery. "It ain't about macho, Blondie. I could just as easily dusted that thing. Hell, I took down two all by myself."
Shooting him an irritated look, she resisted the urge to smack him. Shaking her head, she made her way over to a crypt in the far West corner, knocking on the door.
"What, is this your polite way of saying Hey, I'm here to kill you now?" Dean asked sarcastically. The smile died on his face, though, when a tall, lean, blonde guy answered the crypt door. And smiled at Chloe.
Spike folded his arms across his chest. "This is the big bad demon hunter?" he asked with a raised brow.
"He just took out two vamps," Chloe told him, moving past him and heading inside the crypt.
"Spike, right?" Dean asked, crossing his arms and still standing outside the crypt. "Huh. Thought you'd be... older and uglier. Glasses maybe." Brushing past him, he looked around the well furnished crypt and added, "... and human."
A grin tugged at Chloe's lips, but she managed to suppress it.
Spike smirked. "You guessed wrong."
"Except about the older part," she said, leaning against the wall.
"Oh, do you mean this guy just likes to live in a crypt?" Dean shot back at Chloe, though never taking his eyes off Spike. "Who the hell are you?" he demanded, moving himself between Chloe and this Spike guy, who looked like a poor version of Billy Idol.
"Relax, Dean," Chloe said, a little surprised at the protective gesture.
Spike lit a cigarette, watching him with vague amusement. "You mean you haven't told him all about me, Pet?"
"Told me... what, that the blonde look just makes you look... dead?" he retorted, keeping himself firmly planted in front of Chloe. "No way I'm relaxing until I know what the hell is going on. THIS... guy... is your Watcher??" He couldn't believe what he was seeing. Chloe was friends with a vamp.
She placed a hand on his arm. "Unofficial. And...he has a soul. He fights on our side," she told him.
Spike looked between the two of them, his gaze resting on where her hand was on Dean's arm. A knowing smirk spread across his face.
Dean didn't know what pissed him off more: what Chloe told him or the fact that he wanted to beat that look off Spike's face. "What do you mean, he's got a soul?" he asked, finally turning to Chloe to look at her. "Don't you think about biting me, dude," he warned Spike.
"Don't flatter yourself," Spike retorted.
"I mean...he's not like other vampires. When someone's turned into a vamp, their soul is gone. But...Spike...is one of the two known exceptions."
He glowered at her. "Don't bring that Nancy-Boy into this," he warned.
She grinned, knowing what a sensitive topic Angel was.
"Nancy-Boy?" Dean asked, looking back at Spike and cocking an eyebrow. "Where the hell you from, man? Girlieville or something?"
Spike glared at him.
"He's British," Chloe informed him.
"And he has a soul?" Dean asked Chloe, ignoring the look Spike gave him. "What exactly does that mean? He's gonna feel really bad when he sucks the life outta me?"
"He's not going to suck anything out of you," she said with a chuckle.
"Wouldn't waste my time," Spike snarled, glaring at Dean once more before heading over to the sofa.
"It means he doesn't hunt humans at all," Chloe told him.
Crashing onto the couch, Dean ran a hand through his short hair and sighed. "What the hell kind of town have we landed in?" he said out loud. "You got a Hellmouth, soulless vamps who attack you, a soulful BRITISH one who snarks at you..." He threw his hand in Spike's general direction. "What next? The demons going to put on a play or something?" He gave Spike an eye-over and could have laughed out loud. "You don't look too tough for a vamp," he commented. "Been starving yourself?"
Spike's eyes narrowed. "Wipe that smirk off your face, you wanker."
Chloe covered her mouth with one hand to hide the smile.
"Or what?" Dean snarked back, standing up and getting in Spike's face. "You gonna bite me?" Dusting those vamps earlier had left him anxious to hunt some more, and this Spike guy was just pissing him off to no end.
Spike rose to his feet, towering over Dean by several inches and glowering. His hands curled into fists.
"Okay, that's enough." Chloe rolled her eyes as she got in between them. She looked at Dean, shaking her head. "I get it. You're the Alpha Male." She turned her attention to Spike. "Any word on Springheel Jack tonight?"
Eyes still filled with anger, he reluctantly focused on her. "Seems to have disappeared right off the bloody map."
"Great. He's probably regrouping," she mumbled, raking a hand through her hair.
"How's that..." He gestured vaguely to her stomach and she shifted uncomfortably.
"Fine," she said shortly.
Dean watched the conversation between Chloe and Spike with a great deal of concern. "What's wrong with you, Chloe?" he asked suddenly, backing off as clearly the situation became serious.
She glanced at him. "It's nothing."
Spike snorted. "Yeah if you call getting impaled nothing."
Dean looked at Spike in shock. "Im--PALED?!" He looked at Chloe, who had sat down and turned her face from his. "When the hell did this happen? And was it this Springheel Jack guy?" He directed his questions to Spike, as he knew Chloe would probably give him a non-answer.
Spike's eyes were dark. "Few nights ago when he made his first appearance." He threw his cigarette butt on the floor and stomped it out. "For a few minutes I thought I was gonna be breakin' in a new Slayer."
"You're not that lucky, Spike," Chloe said with a smirk.
He smirked back at her, though there was a touch of worry in his eyes.
Dean closed his eyes against the pain in his heart. She'd been hurt, he thought. Even before they met in the bar last night... and why this made him want to kill the thing that did it to her troubled him. Trying to remain composed, he opened his eyes and looked her over. "You don't look too bad for someone who nearly died," he commented. "I take it you heal fast?"
"Comes with the Slayer package," she told him, not quite meeting his eyes.
Sighing in frustration, Dean let that comment go with a simple nod. He was ready to kill. Now. "So, what's this Springheel Jack? And how do we kill it?"
"He's a bloody pain in the ass," Spike grumbled, leaning against the wall with his arms folded across his chest.
Chloe drew in a breath. "We're not exactly sure what he is," she admitted. "My guess is some kind of demon. Slightly larger than a human, breathes fire, can leap tall buildings, and he has a nasty set of claws."
Dean nodded, taking all this information in. "I wonder if Sammy's found something about this thing in Dad's journal," he said suddenly, whipping out his cell and calling his brother.
"Sammy?" Spike repeated.
"His brother."
He rolled his eyes. "Fantastic."
"Jealous cause he's as good looking as me?" Dean snorted, glaring at Spike. When Sam finally answered the phone, he said, "Sammy, got something for you."
"Oh goodie," Sam's response through the phone sounded under-whelming. "Can it wait? I'm kinda busy putting all this stuff together." He motioned his free hand towards Chloe's growing database of all things strange, which had grown since he'd started adding to it.
"Shut up, okay, and listen," Dean retorted, ignoring Spike's smirk. "Did Dad put anything in the journal about a -- what is it called again?"
"Springheel Jack," Chloe answered, rising to her feet.
Nodding his thanks to her, he said, "Springheel Jack, Sammy. Did Dad ever come across it?"
"Doesn't ring a bell," Sam responded, instantly curious, "but I'll go through it and look, okay? I'll call you back in a little while if I find something." Pausing and smiling, he continued, "You gotten to first base with Chloe yet, bro?"
"I'm going to kick your ass when I get back for that," Dean muttered, saying goodbye and hanging up. "Sam's looking into it. If Dad's come across it, he'll call us." He saw Spike looking at him. "What? Have I grown horns?"
He smirked knowingly. "I'm going out. Don't mess up my crypt," he said as he stalked toward the door.
Chloe watched him go and shook her head slightly.
"Just make sure you clean up your bloody messes," Dean called, enjoying the pot shots he'd been throwing at Spike all night.
"Men," she said, rolling her eyes.
Dean looked away from the crypt door and cocked his eyebrow at Chloe. "What?" he demanded. "You're just as bad, with the 'alpha-male' crack, ya know." He sighed and looked around the crypt, suddenly aware that Spike had left them alone. "Someone trying to tell us something?" he muttered under his breath as he stalked to the fridge and looked for a drink.
"I kinda doubt you're gonna want anything from there," she warned with a smirk.
Opening the refrigerator door, Dean grimaced at all the bags of blood he found in here. But he found what he was looking for: a beer. Smiling in triumph, he grabbed it and slammed the door. "Actually, got what I wanted," he said and opened it, taking a swig and sitting down again. "So, now what? More waiting?"
"Actually I was kinda thinking I should get back out there," she said a bit anxiously, glancing toward the crypt door.
"No problem," he replied, knocking back the rest of the beer in a couple swallows. "I'm ready when you are." He stood up and deliberately left the empty bottle on the floor, just to make Spike mad.
Chloe led the way toward the door, amused by his antics. "All right, so why don't you tell me a little more about how you got mixed up in all this anyway."
Shutting the crypt door behind him, Dean caught up with Chloe as the darkness swallowed them once again. Pacing himself beside her, he said, "My dad, actually. He started me on this when I was... really young." The memory of his mother dying was not one he'd forget, and he wondered if Chloe could handle how hard it had made him.
She glanced at him sideways as they walked. "What got him into it?" she couldn't help but ask, her reporter instincts still keen.
"Uh... my mother." Looking sideways at her, he knew this had caught her interest, for whatever reason. Might as well give her the whole bloody truth of it. "A demon killed her. And he wanted vengeance."
Chloe stopped in her tracks, stunned. "I'm sorry."
Dean stopped with her and laid a hand on her arm. "It's okay. Not your fault. It just... happened, okay?" he said, turning her to face him. He could see the shock and sadness in her eyes and wanted nothing more than to take that away from her.
A stab of pain hit her hard and she shut her eyes against the tears she felt at the too-fresh memories that flooded her mind.
Dean saw a more intense flash of pain from her eyes before she closed them, and he put both hands on her shoulders in an attempt to comfort her. "Talk to me. What's this bringing up?" he asked softly.
Chloe drew in a breath, attempting to regain her composure. When she opened her eyes, she found herself gazing at him intently. "Hey, Dean?"
"Yeah?" he asked, a little startled by the way she was looking at him.
"You ever seen a zombie before?" Without waiting for a response, she moved around him, spinning and kicking it several feet away from them.
Chloe moved faster than anyone he'd ever seen, Dean thought as he watched her fight the zombie with moves that would impress anyone. Even as the stupid creature staggered to its feet, she was on it again, kicking and punching into it without any hesitation. He looked around to see if there was anything else lurking about, but it was too dark to tell. But still... he felt something.
"Only way to kill them is destroy the brain. Still got the gun?" she called, knocking it down once more and glancing at him.
Dean grabbed the gun from his jacket and, walking over, cocked it and put a bullet in the thing's brain. Several times, in fact. The zombie flailed its arms before becoming still. "Dead again, huh?" he remarked, hiding his gun back inside his jacket. "Well, that was fun."
"Yeah. We're not done yet," Chloe informed him grimly, nodding past him to about ten more headed for them.
"Shit, I knew I felt them coming," he muttered as the drones moved towards them in jerky, unnatural movements. Dean whipped out his gun and handed it to her. "Take this, will ya? I've got a spare." He grabbed the small pistol he kept stashed in the small hidden pocket of his jacket out and looked at her, nodding. And barreled into two of the things, punching and shooting as he went.
She hesitated a moment. "I guess this isn't the time to tell you I don't know how to use a gun," she said under her breath, tucking it into her jeans. She headed into Spike's crypt once more, retrieving a very large broadsword before throwing herself into the fray, taking off two of their heads in one fell swoop.
Dean took out another one with his gun before realizing he was the only one shooting. He glanced at Chloe long enough to realize she was lopping off heads like scissors cutting into paper. But there'd be time to admire her skill with a sword later, he though, as a really large zombie grabbed him and threw him several feet into a retaining wall. Wincing in pain and spitting out a little blood, he
grumbled, "Oh, it's on now." He stood up and grabbed a large stick from the ground, beating the zombie down with as much strength as he had until it was on the ground. He then shot it in the head and made for the other two still left alive.
"Don't get bit!" she called out the warning as she took swung the sword and sent the zombie's head flying halfway across the cemetery.
"They're definitely not gonna do the biting on me," he muttered, pounding one with the stick while he fended off the other one with one of the stick's ends. When he realized, though, that his gun was out of bullets, he knew he might be in trouble. "Chloe! My gun!" he shouted, knowing he needed it in order to finish off these two.
Within a split second she was at his side, kicking one away as she took the other out with her sword, making it seem all too easy.
"Chloe, dammit, the gun!" Dean shouted again, his breaths coming in short spurts as he held down the last zombie with the stick. He felt the butt enter his outstretched hand and with a single bullet, he sent the thing back to hell.
Resting the tip of the sword onto the ground, she looked down at him and offered him a hand to help him up.
Breathing heavily, he dropped the stick and took her hand, gladly accepting the help she offered. "See anymore?" he asked, trying to catch his breath as he put his unloaded gun away. And then stared at Chloe, who again looked like she could go a few more rounds.
She looked around, then slowly shook her head. "That's it." She offered him a tiny smile. "Nice job."
Dean smiled despite the pain he felt in his side. "Thanks," he said, looking down at her, then backing up a step. "Nice sword fighting," he commented, flinging a hand at the broadsword she held in her hand and focusing on evening out his breathing.
"Thanks. You okay?" she asked, a hint of worry in her eyes.
"Yeah," he said evenly after a minute, the breathing thing under control though the pain in his side not getting any better. He shooed her hands away. "No, really, I'll live. I've had much worse." He took a seat on top of a tombstone anyway, just in case. Suddenly, he missed Sam. This was the first time in awhile where he didn't have his brother by his side, and it just... felt strange.
Authors: xtremeroswellia and clarksmuse
Rating: R to NC-17
Pairing: Chlean (Chloe/Dean)
Disclaimer: We don't own these characters. We just love them and wanted to play with them, that's all! Please don't sue...
One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Twelve | Thirteen | Fourteen | Fifteen | Sixteen A | Sixteen B | Seventeen | Eighteen | Cocnlusion
Three o'clock. Dean noted the time as he packed up his stuff to take to Chloe's apartment. "Dude," he called to Sam, "you gonna call Chloe now or what? We've got to get moving!"
"No. You call her," he said in a bored tone from where he sat on his bed, reading a book
"Hell, no, I'm not calling her," he retorted hotly. "She'd rather talk to you. Goodnight, Sam," he mocked slightly, still feeling the burn of her ignoring him last night.
Sam smirked behind his book, immensely enjoying the fact that for once a girl Dean liked wasn't throwing herself at him. "Well personally I'm fine staying here."
"Here." Dean threw his cell at Sam, nearly hitting his head. "Just call her for me? Number's in there." He motioned towards his phone, which Sam had still not picked up.
"What's wrong? Lost your touch with the ladies?" he teased, still not making a move to pick up the phone.
Sammy was deliberately baiting him, Dean realized. Which just pissed him off more. "It's more than you've ever had," he snapped, grabbing the phone and finding Chloe's number. With a frustrated sigh, he hit 'send' and waited for her to answer. Surprisingly she did after the first ring.
"Hello?" She'd just walked in the door as the phone rang and she scooped it up quickly, a little breathless.
"Chloe? It's Dean." His flat tone betrayed nothing of the tightening he felt in his stomach over hearing her breathless voice. "You home now? We're heading over."
"Yeah, I'm here. Come on over."
"OK." He heard her breathing ease just a little and paused, not wanting to hang up just yet. "What's wrong with you?"
"What?" Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Nothing."
"Alright, then. See you in a little while." Dean hung up before she had a chance to say anything else. He looked at Sam, who was smiling smugly behind his book. "You want me to beat that look off your face?" he threatened, grabbing his bag.
Sam snorted and stood up, tucking his book in his bag. "I'm real worried about that."
"Yeah, you should be," Dean mumbled under his breath. He hated the look on Sammy's face as they left the hotel room and got in the car. Compound that with the intense desire to see Chloe again, and he had a real problem. So, starting the car and throwing it into drive, he turned on music that would deliberately irritate Sam as they drove to Chloe's apartment, several miles away.
Knowing he'd succeeded in annoying his brother was enough to keep Sam's spirits high as they drove to Chloe's. When they arrived, he grinned and climbed out of the car, grabbing his bag and heading toward the apartment building.
The drive to Chloe's place should have been more... fun, Dean thought as he and Sam trudged up the steps to her door. And even more annoying was the fact that, when Dean knocked on her door and Chloe answered, she smiled warmly at Sam while barely acknowledging his presence.
"Hey Chloe," Sam greeted her back just as warmly... and noted her deliberate attempt to ignore Dean. "Good to see you again."
"Good to see you too. Come on in." She stepped aside to let them in. "Sam, you guys had dinner yet?"
"No, actually, we're starving, thanks for asking." Dean couldn't help it: being ignored was something he hated, especially when... He shook off that thought immediately when Chloe threw him a glaring look.
"Actually, Chloe, I thought we'd order a pizza, if that's okay." Sam winked at Dean, reminding him of how they had found her to begin with.
"Well, I guess that's up to you, but I've got spaghetti on the stove and garlic bread in the oven," she told them.
"Really?" Sam replied, looking sideways at Dean. "Hey, I'm up for anything right now, so that sounds great too." He led the way into Chloe's apartment and dropped his bag on the floor, and taking Dean's, he said, "And I think Dean should help you set the table and stuff."
Dean stared at Sam, his eyes wide as saucers. Boy, if anyone needed a kick in the ass, it was his brother. He gave Chloe a wry grin and said, "I'll set the table if you show me where the stuff is." He watched Sam grab his book from his bag and sit down, becoming engrossed in his book again.
Forgetting to keep her guard up for a moment, she offered Dean a smile in return and headed into the kitchen. "Plates are in the cabinet above the sink," she said as she moved to stir the spaghetti.
"Thanks," he said softly, moving into the already too small kitchen. In fact, he bumped into her: she turned to move to the sink just as he reached it and was going to get out the dishes. "Sorry," he mumbled, a little embarrassed and not a little angry at Sammy for putting him in such close quarters with this irritatingly beautiful woman.
"It's okay," she said, glancing at him from the corner of her eye. "Silverware's in the drawer beside the dishwasher."
Convinced that he was the only one who felt the attraction, he nodded mutely and grabbed the silverware out of the drawer and slammed it shut. He felt her look at him quizzically, so he simply said, "Sorry," and took the silverware and plates to the table without looking at her.
From his view behind his book, Sam could have laughed out loud at the scene he was witnessing. Two more hard-headed people he had never met, and the fact that they liked each other would prove a nice distraction from the hells of whatever job they had to fulfill.
Chloe watched Dean as he set the table and she shook her head slightly before turning back to the stove. She picked up the pot of spaghetti and carried it to the table carefully. "You guys... do like spaghetti right?" Her voice was hesitant.
Sam leapt out of his chair and immediately took the pot from Chloe's hands. "Are you kidding?" he asked, setting it on the table. "Love the stuff. Don't we, Dean?"
Lost in his own personal hell, Dean accidentally clattered the remaining silverware on the table at the sound of Sam's voice. "Yeah, anything homemade is worth eating."
Chloe reached out to pick up the silverware at the same time Dean did and their hands brushed against one another. A shiver passed over her involuntarily and she swallowed hard.
Chloe's touch sent a jolt of electricity throughout Dean's body, making him more aware of her physical presence than ever. Clearing his throat, he managed to say, "I've got it," before he lost the ability to speak momentarily. He sat down beside her, with Sam on his left. Sam looked all too pleased with himself, as if he had managed to cheat on a test and not get caught.
She drew in a breath and let it out slowly, scooping spaghetti onto each of their plates. "So where are you guys from, anyway?"
Dean immediately dug into his dinner, his stomach taking precedent over any small talk they might make. Besides, he'd rather hear her voice and make Sam do all the talking. He saw Sam throw him a look, making Dean slow down and enjoy the meal a little bit.
"We're from Lawrence, Kansas, originally," Sam answered her when Dean continued to say nothing. "How about you?"
She paused, looking at him in surprise. "You're from Kansas," she repeated.
Sam nodded, seeing the surprise register on her face. Before he could ask anything, however, Dean wiped his mouth and said, "Yeah, Kansas boys. Sounds like you're from there, too." He stated it as a fact, not a question. Just something to keep her talking.
"Yeah, I am actually. Metropolis, originally." She lowered her gaze to her plate.
"Whoa," Dean said quietly. "Big city girl, huh? You miss it?"
A faint, somewhat bitter smile touched her lips. "Yes and no," she said softly.
"What... do you mean by that?" Sam asked her, genuinely curious about her strange response. Dean, just as curious, chose instead to take another bite of the dwindling pile of pasta on his plate, saying, "Good grub."
"It's sort of a long story," Chloe said, not looking up. She glanced at Dean. "Glad you like it."
Wiping his mouth again, Dean looked at her and a ghost of a smile crossed his features. "I'm gonna grab seconds, if that's okay with dorkface over there." He looked at Sammy, who had barely touched his dinner for asking twenty questions.
"Yeah, yeah help yourself," Sam responded, wondering about Chloe's strange non-answer but dropping the subject. "So if you've only been in Cleveland for a few months, you must not know where this Hellmouth thing is, huh?"
She paused and looked at him. "Cleveland is the Hellmouth, Sam," she said seriously. "All of it."
Sam laughed in surprise. "No, really." When Chloe said nothing, only stared at him while taking several bites of her dinner, he looked down at his suddenly and lost his appetite. "Wow," he murmured. "You mean, I'm sitting on top of this thing... right now?"
"Yeah, I believe that's what the lady is saying," Dean retorted between bites, understanding that what she was telling them was the truth.
"So there's all kinds of great stuff to kill around here, huh?" he asked her, sneaking a quick look her way before taking another mouthful.
"Great's over-stating it," she answered, taking a drink of her water. She let out a breath and sat back in her chair, having lost her own appetite. "But yeah. There's plenty of nasties to go around."
Dean seemed to be the only one who still remotely wanted to eat... which compelled him to put down his fork. "But that's a good thing," he remarked. "We've killed more than our fair share of demons, so with the three of us out there, we can seriously do some damage." He deliberately omitted the fact that he wanted to see how kick-ass of a fighter she was, too.
"Four of us," she corrected.
Four? Dean thought and looked around the room. He went through the motions of counting heads in the room. "Unless I've forgotten how to count, there's only three of us," he countered despite the eye roll he got from his brother.
"That's because you haven't met Spike yet," she said with a faint smile as she stood up, taking her plate over to the sink.
"Spike?" Sam asked with uncertainty. He looked at Dean, who snorted with laughter. "You know someone named... Spike?"
"Well, actually that's his nickname. His real name is William." She chuckled softly.
William. He. Dean heard those two words and felt his stomach -- and his heart -- sink into the floor. "Sounds like you two are quite cozy, Blondie," he muttered a little too harshly. Great, just what I need, another know-it-all around me, he thought.
Sam glanced at Dean and saw the emotions cross his face. And knew he was as jealous as hell. Smiling a little, Sam turned back to Chloe and innocently asked, "So, how do you know William? er, Spike?"
Chloe laughed out loud at the implication. "Not like that. He's a little too old for me," she said with a smirk as she moved to clear Sam's plate off the table too. "He's...my unofficial Watcher."
"A... Watcher?" Dean smirked, taking his own plate from the table and putting it in the sink. "Uh huh... he... watches you, then?"
"Shut the hell up, Dean," Sam butted in, helping Chloe clean off the table. "What's a Watcher, Chloe? Never heard of that before."
She smirked at Dean's comment, and then turned to look at Sam. "Back in the day... every Slayer had one person from the Watcher's Council assigned to her to help train and guide her. Help with research. That kind of thing. But the Watcher's Council disbanded after there was some trouble with the last two Slayers."
Sam nodded, frowning. "So... there's not a Watcher's Council anymore?" he asked. "What happened to cause that?"
Chloe drew in a breath. "I don't know the whole story," she admitted. "But apparently one of the last Slayers turned to the dark side and the other one quit working for the council and went rogue."
"So you never actually met these other... Slayers," Dean commented from the seat he had taken at the table again. "And for all we know, they could be out there doing evil things."
She turned to look at him. "I'd say the likelihood of that is pretty much none."
"Really?" Dean responded, crossing his arms. "And why is that, exactly? If one's evil and the other's a rogue, which means she could be evil, then --"
"Cut it out, Dean, for God's sake," Sam interrupted again. "Can you just for once take her at her word?"
"Because they're both dead," Chloe said distantly.
Dean blinked in surprise to her flat, unemotional response. Both dead? That meant... "So you're not completely indestructible," Dean said out loud, looking down at his hands, speaking more to himself.
Sam, on the other hand, was furious at Dean's insensitive statement. He grabbed Dean by the jacket and hauled him to his feet. A shocked Dean looked into his brother's angry eyes. "What the hell are you talking about?" Sam yelled at his brother.
A second later, Chloe had pulled him away from Dean, one hand on each of their chests to keep them separated. "Chill out, guys. Everyone just relax." She looked at Sam briefly, her eyes filled with sadness. "It's okay." She turned to Dean. "No, I'm not completely indestructible. I'm still human. I just...have certain abilities that not everyone else does." She let out a breath. "And that's how the Slayer line works. One dies, another is called."
"So... let me get this straight," Dean said, straightening his jacket as he shot Sammy a go to hell look. "You're a Slayer because.... others are dead? Dude, that's fucked up." Dean stared at Chloe, trying to get her to understand his meaning, that he knew the pain of being alive even though others were dead. He started to put his hand on her arm in comfort but stopped before he touched her.
She pulled away from him, tears glittering in her eyes before she could blink them back. "Tell me about it," she said bitterly, retreating into the kitchen once more to do the dishes.
Sam looked at Dean that told him to help her with the dishes before moving into the living area and grabbing their father's journal from his bag to study it, find anything specific to the Cleveland area they should be on the lookout for.
Dean took the hint from his brother and picked up a clean towel from the sink. "Here, I'll help you dry them off," he offered, watching her fill up the sink with soap and water.
"I've got it," she said without turning around.
"Oh good," he responded, grabbing a wet, clean pot from her grasp, "because for a second there I thought you really had everything together." Sighing in frustration, he whispered, "Please, let me help? I don't offer my services that often, you know." He threw a soft smile at her, not knowing if she saw it or not.
Chloe let out a breath, still not looking at him. "I didn't choose this life. It chose me."
Chuckling, Dean dried the pan and put is aside to be put up later. "Well, that's something we have in common then," he replied, grabbing another pot out of her hand, their fingertips brushing again as he did so.
"Yeah, but you enjoy it," she stated, turning to look at him.
Dean saw the sadness and despair in her eyes and frowned. "Hell yeah, I enjoy it. Kicking some demon ass? Always a good time. The question is: why don't you? I mean, if you were chosen to do this..."
"No one knows why Slayers are chosen. They just are. Destiny, fate...whatever. But this isn't the life I planned for myself," she admitted, leaning against the sink. "Don't get me wrong. I like helping people. And ridding the world of evil. It's just..."
"You don't like the idea of something else having a say-so over your life, right?" he asked, looking at her with genuine concern in his eyes.
Chloe managed a faint smile. "That factors in."
Ah. A smile, Dean thought as he resumed his task. He felt like he was finally getting somewhere with her. "There's something else?" he asked. "Because I gotta say, this job sure don't suck."
She folded her arms across her chest. "Except the part where I probably won't make it to my 20th birthday," she said wryly before turning back to wash more dishes.
"Bullshit," Dean whispered in response. "I've been doing this for a helluva lot longer than you have, and I'm still around. You learn to survive." He grabbed the last clean plate out of her hand and dried it thoroughly. And a little too vigorously, for he nearly broke the plate in anger over the thought of her dying.
"Slayers don't tend to have a very long lifespan," she admitted. "I don't just hunt things. They hunt me too."
That comment made Dean think about the demon his father had been hunting all his life. The thing that killed his and Sam's mother. The thing that was hunting them, just as they were hunting it. He nodded silently, understanding her more than she knew.
Chloe let out a breath. "I promise I’m not always this depressing to be around," she said, attempting to lighten her voice.
Dean shook off her comment with a laugh. "I guess that's the cue for me to make some off-the-wall comment and make you glare at me," he remarked, putting the clean dishes back in the cabinet and resting against it to look at her.
A real grin tugged at her lips. "Well, you are good at doing that."
Dean smiled in response as he looked at her. "Hey, got to hone my natural skills, sweetheart." With that, he shrugged off his jacket, threw it over one of the chairs and went over to where Sam was sitting. "Hey, loser," he said loudly, "what snooze-worthy stuff you reading now?"
"Uh, not a lot," Sam responded, not paying any attention to Dean's attempts at impressing Chloe. "I'm just searching through Dad's journal for any mention of Cleveland... other than what I already showed you."
"Well...if you wanna save yourself some trouble..." Chloe moved into the living room as well and motioned to the computer. "I've chronicled everything I've encountered so far, as well as all the not-so-normal deaths in the past couple of years. I'm still working on that part, though."
Sam stood up and moved over to Chloe's computer, smiling widely. "I'm glad to know there are other people out there who keeps track of this stuff," he replied with excitement. "Can I take a peek?"
"Take a peek," Dean grumbled, narrowing his eyes at Sammy and his close proximity to Chloe herself.
"Of course." She moved over and turned on the computer, perching on the edge of the desk while he sat in the chair. "I've actually started a database of everything. It's slow-going but..." She shrugged, smiling.
"Maybe we can work together to build your database using our dad's journal," Sam replied as he pulled up the information she had. "He's done quite a bit of research over the years during these hunts he's done." The fact that they could be of use to Chloe and her job gave him a sense of usefulness.
Meanwhile, Dean was growing restless. "And what am I supposed to do while you guys are playing computer geek? Sit around and knit a sweater?" He was itching for a fight of some kind suddenly. And it had nothing to do with the fact that he was jealous of how well Sam got along with Chloe.
Chloe leaned a little closer to Sam. "I'm getting the feeling your brother is the type that has to be entertained 24/7," she said with a short chuckle.
"You have no idea," Sam said softly, throwing a hateful look Dean's way. Dean just muttered some curse under his breath but managed to stay quiet, for the moment.
Turning back to the screen, Sam asked, "So, what have you written down so far?"
"Well..." She turned around to face the keyboard and typed a string of rapid commands, pulling up the database she'd been working on which chronicled everything she'd encountered, killed, where it had been, and when. "See for yourself." She glanced at Dean. "Wanna see my arsenal?" she asked lifting an eyebrow.
Sam was impressed by the articles and information Chloe had already collected. It contained everything from the standard variety list of demons and vamps to stranger stuff, like women being able to control men through pheromones and murderers doing the disappearing act to avoid the cops. "Whoa," he replied, impressed with the sheer number of things she had come across. "I'd say you've been doing this list for more than a couple years, unless Metropolis has more weirdos than you think."
He knew Chloe didn't hear him, though, because she was too busy showing Dean her chest of weapons.
Dean's eyes lit up at the thought of checking out her chest... of weapons. "Hell, yes," he said, almost joyfully leaping out of his seat and moving to her. "Show me what you got."
Smirking at his eagerness, she led the way to her bedroom and opened her closet. Pulling out the large trunk first, she motioned to it, then pushed her clothes to one side of the closet, showing him the large selection of axes, stakes, bows and arrows, knives and other weaponry that hung on the closet wall. She tucked some hair behind her ear, barely able to hide a smile at his look of shock.
This definitely put his meager set of weapons to shame, Dean realized, not able to hide the shock on his face. Picking up a small crossbow, he looked at her and said, "Who's your dealer?" He smiled a little too happily at being in her room, checking out her weapons. "Where did you get all this stuff?"
"Some of it came from Spike. Some of it I bought. I took the rest off various demons and vamps," she told him, resting her hands on her hips.
"Dude," he said, awed by her weaponry. "You whittle your own stakes?" He picked up one and rolled it around in his hands, flipping it and itching to demonstrate his demon ass-kicking skills to her.
"It's not hard." Chloe shrugged. "Keep it. I've got plenty more." She knelt down on the floor and opened the large trunk. She pulled out a couple bottles of holy water. "You should keep a couple of these on hand too." She handed him one.
Dean stashed the stake in his back pocket, making a mental note to put it in his jacket later. He crouched down by her and took the holy water from her outstretched hands. Their fingers brushed each other, making Dean's body react at the electricity that zinged between them. Awkwardly, he stood up and went back to gaze at her closet of weapons. "Thanks," he muttered. "So, when do we get to meet this Spike guy? What's his story?"
A short chuckle escaped her involuntarily. "Spike's story is...very very long and colorful. I'll let him tell you about it. He may be out tonight when I go patrolling. You'll meet him soon, I'm sure." She stood up as well. "Speaking of which." She glanced toward the window and drew in a breath. "The sun is starting to set," she said grimly, reaching into the closet and grabbing her jean jacket. She
shrugged into it and then grabbed a couple stakes from the wall, sliding one in the sleeve of her coat and the other in one of the loops on her jeans. She headed into the bathroom, pulling her hair back into a ponytail to keep the hair out of her eyes.
Watching her get ready for what she called "patrolling", Dean rushed out into the main room and grabbed his jacket. "Sammy, I'm going out with Chloe."
Turning from her computer, Sam smiled. "Alright, got somewhere with her, huh?" he whispered to keep her from hearing.
"Shut up, man," Dean shot back. "She's going out hunting, and I'm going with her." As Chloe appeared in the main room, Dean gazed at Chloe and repeated, "I'm going with you. Now. Tonight."
Chloe hesitated a moment, then nodded. "Sam, I've got my cell on," she told him as she headed for the door.
"OK," Sam replied and turned back to the computer screen. "Call if you need anything. And keep Shortie from getting himself killed." He missed the hateful look Dean shot back at him as he and Chloe left the apartment.
Dean tucked the stake and holy water in his jacket pockets, pulling out his keys. "We driving?"
She raised an eyebrow. "Kinda hard to fight vamps in car," she teased. elbowing him lightly in the ribs.
Dean raised an eyebrow at her but laughed in response. "Alright, I guess we're walking. Gotta get something out of the truck first." He ran to the car and popped the trunk, reaching for the latch to open the false bottom and show off his own set of weapons.
"Oh nice," she said, leaning down to gaze at the weaponry. "I should get one of these for my trunk," she remarked.
Dean smiled as he grabbed a gun and a couple more stakes before closing it again. "Hey, I can install it for you. Easiest thing in the world," he remarked, secretly relieved to know he had impressed her. He tucked everything into his jacket and turned to look at her.
"That'd be great," she said with a grin.
Dean grinned back at her, the sense of some sort of bonding falling between them. "Just say the word and I'll do it. So," he continued, "for someone who doesn't like to go out and hunt, you sure seemed pumped up about it."
"Oh, I didn't say I didn't like it. I just said it wasn't what I'd planned for my future," she told him as they started to walk down the sidewalk.
Falling into an easy stride with her, he said, "Then, if this destiny thing hadn't have happened to you, what did you want to do with your life?"
A sad, wistful smile touched her lips. "I wanted to be the Daily Planet's top investigative reporter. I grew up reading that paper every day and wanting to work there and expose the truth in whatever form that took. I was actually on my second internship there when I got called for this. Probably sounds dull to you," she said softly.
"Maybe a little," he replied conversationally, "but then, I'm more of a shoot first, ask questions later kind of guy. Sammy, on the other hand, loves that kind of stuff." They walked on for a few minutes in silence before Dean asked, "Don't you think you could still be a reporter? Maybe not at the Daily Planet but... around here?"
"Slaying pretty much takes up my time," she admitted. "And quite frankly...I don't know of too many decent papers that will print articles on how to kill a vampire in five easy steps."
Dean couldn't help it: he threw his head back and laughed loudly. "Now that's a newspaper I'd subscribe to," he said with a grin... before hearing a noise coming from their right. "Hear that?" he whispered, stopping her with a touch.
"Yeah. That's just Larry," she told him. "Come on." She began to walk again.
"Who the hell's Larry?" Dean asked, clearly confused as he strode quickly to catch up with her.
She flashed him a grin. "An informant of sorts."
"Ah, the kind you kick the crap out of when you need information," he responded a little playfully. "I get it. Chloe can kick ass." They walked along in companionable silence, definitely a change from the night before, he thought.
She suddenly paused in her tracks, stilling him with one hand as she stopped to listen.
Dean stopped, watching her look around and listen carefully. He didn't know what she had heard, but he knew better than to interrupt. He looked into the darkness and found... only darkness. "Where?" he finally whispered, reaching into his pocket for one of the stakes.
Slowly, Chloe looked up, her eyes widening a little. She quickly pushed Dean out of the way as three vampires sprang down from the roof of the apartment building beside them, one tackling her to the ground.
"Dammit," he muttered as he felt the power of her push that knocked him to the ground. He jumped up, however, and barreled into one of the vamps that was trying to hold her down, getting several good punches in before the thing threw him back a few feet. Not willing to give up, he went after it again, this time knocking it down and staking it in the heart before it had a chance to hit him again.
The vamp poofed into dust, which surprised Dean. Not something he expected.
Seconds later she was on her feet, a pissed off expression on her face as she glared at the two remaining vampires. As if realizing they'd jumped the wrong people, they took off in different directions. Without hesitation Chloe chased after the larger of the two, tackling and staking him within less than half a block.
Dean ran after the last vamp, who clearly decided getting dusted was not worth it. "Come here," he muttered as he caught up to the thing, swung it around and staked it before it knew what hit it. Watching the dust settle, he coughed and shook his hands clean of the vampire dust. "God, these things are messy," he said out loud. "They don't do this where I come from." He didn't realize Chloe had
appeared behind him and so jumped a little when she touched his arm.
"Sorry," she said, not a bit winded. "What do you mean they don't do this where you come from?"
"You gotta cut off the heads," Dean replied, wondering how she couldn't be short of breath after that. "Gets kinda messy. Why aren't you winded?" he asked, a little jealous.
"Slayer stamina," she said, a twinkle of mischievousness in her eyes and a smirk tugging at her lips.
Dean grinned at the twinkle in her eyes and started thinking about things that was way too distracting. "Stamina, huh?" he asked, clearly impressed. "Would that apply to other areas of your life, as well?" He started walking again as if nothing had happened.
"Wouldn't you like to know?" She smirked again as she led him toward the cemetery.
"How many ways can I say yes?" he muttered to himself, hoping that stamina didn't come with super hearing as well. He followed her into the cemetery, the darkness following closely at his heels. "Great, a cemetery. Perfect spot for killing vamps."
"Nice job back there, by the way," she told him as she jumped over the locked gate and waited for him to do the same.
"Told you I could kick some ass," he responded, easily jumping the fence. "But why did you go after the big one? It's not like I couldn't have done it."
Chloe rolled her eyes. "Don't go all macho on me. It was just instinct."
"Macho?" Dean retorted as they crept their way through the dark cemetery. "It ain't about macho, Blondie. I could just as easily dusted that thing. Hell, I took down two all by myself."
Shooting him an irritated look, she resisted the urge to smack him. Shaking her head, she made her way over to a crypt in the far West corner, knocking on the door.
"What, is this your polite way of saying Hey, I'm here to kill you now?" Dean asked sarcastically. The smile died on his face, though, when a tall, lean, blonde guy answered the crypt door. And smiled at Chloe.
Spike folded his arms across his chest. "This is the big bad demon hunter?" he asked with a raised brow.
"He just took out two vamps," Chloe told him, moving past him and heading inside the crypt.
"Spike, right?" Dean asked, crossing his arms and still standing outside the crypt. "Huh. Thought you'd be... older and uglier. Glasses maybe." Brushing past him, he looked around the well furnished crypt and added, "... and human."
A grin tugged at Chloe's lips, but she managed to suppress it.
Spike smirked. "You guessed wrong."
"Except about the older part," she said, leaning against the wall.
"Oh, do you mean this guy just likes to live in a crypt?" Dean shot back at Chloe, though never taking his eyes off Spike. "Who the hell are you?" he demanded, moving himself between Chloe and this Spike guy, who looked like a poor version of Billy Idol.
"Relax, Dean," Chloe said, a little surprised at the protective gesture.
Spike lit a cigarette, watching him with vague amusement. "You mean you haven't told him all about me, Pet?"
"Told me... what, that the blonde look just makes you look... dead?" he retorted, keeping himself firmly planted in front of Chloe. "No way I'm relaxing until I know what the hell is going on. THIS... guy... is your Watcher??" He couldn't believe what he was seeing. Chloe was friends with a vamp.
She placed a hand on his arm. "Unofficial. And...he has a soul. He fights on our side," she told him.
Spike looked between the two of them, his gaze resting on where her hand was on Dean's arm. A knowing smirk spread across his face.
Dean didn't know what pissed him off more: what Chloe told him or the fact that he wanted to beat that look off Spike's face. "What do you mean, he's got a soul?" he asked, finally turning to Chloe to look at her. "Don't you think about biting me, dude," he warned Spike.
"Don't flatter yourself," Spike retorted.
"I mean...he's not like other vampires. When someone's turned into a vamp, their soul is gone. But...Spike...is one of the two known exceptions."
He glowered at her. "Don't bring that Nancy-Boy into this," he warned.
She grinned, knowing what a sensitive topic Angel was.
"Nancy-Boy?" Dean asked, looking back at Spike and cocking an eyebrow. "Where the hell you from, man? Girlieville or something?"
Spike glared at him.
"He's British," Chloe informed him.
"And he has a soul?" Dean asked Chloe, ignoring the look Spike gave him. "What exactly does that mean? He's gonna feel really bad when he sucks the life outta me?"
"He's not going to suck anything out of you," she said with a chuckle.
"Wouldn't waste my time," Spike snarled, glaring at Dean once more before heading over to the sofa.
"It means he doesn't hunt humans at all," Chloe told him.
Crashing onto the couch, Dean ran a hand through his short hair and sighed. "What the hell kind of town have we landed in?" he said out loud. "You got a Hellmouth, soulless vamps who attack you, a soulful BRITISH one who snarks at you..." He threw his hand in Spike's general direction. "What next? The demons going to put on a play or something?" He gave Spike an eye-over and could have laughed out loud. "You don't look too tough for a vamp," he commented. "Been starving yourself?"
Spike's eyes narrowed. "Wipe that smirk off your face, you wanker."
Chloe covered her mouth with one hand to hide the smile.
"Or what?" Dean snarked back, standing up and getting in Spike's face. "You gonna bite me?" Dusting those vamps earlier had left him anxious to hunt some more, and this Spike guy was just pissing him off to no end.
Spike rose to his feet, towering over Dean by several inches and glowering. His hands curled into fists.
"Okay, that's enough." Chloe rolled her eyes as she got in between them. She looked at Dean, shaking her head. "I get it. You're the Alpha Male." She turned her attention to Spike. "Any word on Springheel Jack tonight?"
Eyes still filled with anger, he reluctantly focused on her. "Seems to have disappeared right off the bloody map."
"Great. He's probably regrouping," she mumbled, raking a hand through her hair.
"How's that..." He gestured vaguely to her stomach and she shifted uncomfortably.
"Fine," she said shortly.
Dean watched the conversation between Chloe and Spike with a great deal of concern. "What's wrong with you, Chloe?" he asked suddenly, backing off as clearly the situation became serious.
She glanced at him. "It's nothing."
Spike snorted. "Yeah if you call getting impaled nothing."
Dean looked at Spike in shock. "Im--PALED?!" He looked at Chloe, who had sat down and turned her face from his. "When the hell did this happen? And was it this Springheel Jack guy?" He directed his questions to Spike, as he knew Chloe would probably give him a non-answer.
Spike's eyes were dark. "Few nights ago when he made his first appearance." He threw his cigarette butt on the floor and stomped it out. "For a few minutes I thought I was gonna be breakin' in a new Slayer."
"You're not that lucky, Spike," Chloe said with a smirk.
He smirked back at her, though there was a touch of worry in his eyes.
Dean closed his eyes against the pain in his heart. She'd been hurt, he thought. Even before they met in the bar last night... and why this made him want to kill the thing that did it to her troubled him. Trying to remain composed, he opened his eyes and looked her over. "You don't look too bad for someone who nearly died," he commented. "I take it you heal fast?"
"Comes with the Slayer package," she told him, not quite meeting his eyes.
Sighing in frustration, Dean let that comment go with a simple nod. He was ready to kill. Now. "So, what's this Springheel Jack? And how do we kill it?"
"He's a bloody pain in the ass," Spike grumbled, leaning against the wall with his arms folded across his chest.
Chloe drew in a breath. "We're not exactly sure what he is," she admitted. "My guess is some kind of demon. Slightly larger than a human, breathes fire, can leap tall buildings, and he has a nasty set of claws."
Dean nodded, taking all this information in. "I wonder if Sammy's found something about this thing in Dad's journal," he said suddenly, whipping out his cell and calling his brother.
"Sammy?" Spike repeated.
"His brother."
He rolled his eyes. "Fantastic."
"Jealous cause he's as good looking as me?" Dean snorted, glaring at Spike. When Sam finally answered the phone, he said, "Sammy, got something for you."
"Oh goodie," Sam's response through the phone sounded under-whelming. "Can it wait? I'm kinda busy putting all this stuff together." He motioned his free hand towards Chloe's growing database of all things strange, which had grown since he'd started adding to it.
"Shut up, okay, and listen," Dean retorted, ignoring Spike's smirk. "Did Dad put anything in the journal about a -- what is it called again?"
"Springheel Jack," Chloe answered, rising to her feet.
Nodding his thanks to her, he said, "Springheel Jack, Sammy. Did Dad ever come across it?"
"Doesn't ring a bell," Sam responded, instantly curious, "but I'll go through it and look, okay? I'll call you back in a little while if I find something." Pausing and smiling, he continued, "You gotten to first base with Chloe yet, bro?"
"I'm going to kick your ass when I get back for that," Dean muttered, saying goodbye and hanging up. "Sam's looking into it. If Dad's come across it, he'll call us." He saw Spike looking at him. "What? Have I grown horns?"
He smirked knowingly. "I'm going out. Don't mess up my crypt," he said as he stalked toward the door.
Chloe watched him go and shook her head slightly.
"Just make sure you clean up your bloody messes," Dean called, enjoying the pot shots he'd been throwing at Spike all night.
"Men," she said, rolling her eyes.
Dean looked away from the crypt door and cocked his eyebrow at Chloe. "What?" he demanded. "You're just as bad, with the 'alpha-male' crack, ya know." He sighed and looked around the crypt, suddenly aware that Spike had left them alone. "Someone trying to tell us something?" he muttered under his breath as he stalked to the fridge and looked for a drink.
"I kinda doubt you're gonna want anything from there," she warned with a smirk.
Opening the refrigerator door, Dean grimaced at all the bags of blood he found in here. But he found what he was looking for: a beer. Smiling in triumph, he grabbed it and slammed the door. "Actually, got what I wanted," he said and opened it, taking a swig and sitting down again. "So, now what? More waiting?"
"Actually I was kinda thinking I should get back out there," she said a bit anxiously, glancing toward the crypt door.
"No problem," he replied, knocking back the rest of the beer in a couple swallows. "I'm ready when you are." He stood up and deliberately left the empty bottle on the floor, just to make Spike mad.
Chloe led the way toward the door, amused by his antics. "All right, so why don't you tell me a little more about how you got mixed up in all this anyway."
Shutting the crypt door behind him, Dean caught up with Chloe as the darkness swallowed them once again. Pacing himself beside her, he said, "My dad, actually. He started me on this when I was... really young." The memory of his mother dying was not one he'd forget, and he wondered if Chloe could handle how hard it had made him.
She glanced at him sideways as they walked. "What got him into it?" she couldn't help but ask, her reporter instincts still keen.
"Uh... my mother." Looking sideways at her, he knew this had caught her interest, for whatever reason. Might as well give her the whole bloody truth of it. "A demon killed her. And he wanted vengeance."
Chloe stopped in her tracks, stunned. "I'm sorry."
Dean stopped with her and laid a hand on her arm. "It's okay. Not your fault. It just... happened, okay?" he said, turning her to face him. He could see the shock and sadness in her eyes and wanted nothing more than to take that away from her.
A stab of pain hit her hard and she shut her eyes against the tears she felt at the too-fresh memories that flooded her mind.
Dean saw a more intense flash of pain from her eyes before she closed them, and he put both hands on her shoulders in an attempt to comfort her. "Talk to me. What's this bringing up?" he asked softly.
Chloe drew in a breath, attempting to regain her composure. When she opened her eyes, she found herself gazing at him intently. "Hey, Dean?"
"Yeah?" he asked, a little startled by the way she was looking at him.
"You ever seen a zombie before?" Without waiting for a response, she moved around him, spinning and kicking it several feet away from them.
Chloe moved faster than anyone he'd ever seen, Dean thought as he watched her fight the zombie with moves that would impress anyone. Even as the stupid creature staggered to its feet, she was on it again, kicking and punching into it without any hesitation. He looked around to see if there was anything else lurking about, but it was too dark to tell. But still... he felt something.
"Only way to kill them is destroy the brain. Still got the gun?" she called, knocking it down once more and glancing at him.
Dean grabbed the gun from his jacket and, walking over, cocked it and put a bullet in the thing's brain. Several times, in fact. The zombie flailed its arms before becoming still. "Dead again, huh?" he remarked, hiding his gun back inside his jacket. "Well, that was fun."
"Yeah. We're not done yet," Chloe informed him grimly, nodding past him to about ten more headed for them.
"Shit, I knew I felt them coming," he muttered as the drones moved towards them in jerky, unnatural movements. Dean whipped out his gun and handed it to her. "Take this, will ya? I've got a spare." He grabbed the small pistol he kept stashed in the small hidden pocket of his jacket out and looked at her, nodding. And barreled into two of the things, punching and shooting as he went.
She hesitated a moment. "I guess this isn't the time to tell you I don't know how to use a gun," she said under her breath, tucking it into her jeans. She headed into Spike's crypt once more, retrieving a very large broadsword before throwing herself into the fray, taking off two of their heads in one fell swoop.
Dean took out another one with his gun before realizing he was the only one shooting. He glanced at Chloe long enough to realize she was lopping off heads like scissors cutting into paper. But there'd be time to admire her skill with a sword later, he though, as a really large zombie grabbed him and threw him several feet into a retaining wall. Wincing in pain and spitting out a little blood, he
grumbled, "Oh, it's on now." He stood up and grabbed a large stick from the ground, beating the zombie down with as much strength as he had until it was on the ground. He then shot it in the head and made for the other two still left alive.
"Don't get bit!" she called out the warning as she took swung the sword and sent the zombie's head flying halfway across the cemetery.
"They're definitely not gonna do the biting on me," he muttered, pounding one with the stick while he fended off the other one with one of the stick's ends. When he realized, though, that his gun was out of bullets, he knew he might be in trouble. "Chloe! My gun!" he shouted, knowing he needed it in order to finish off these two.
Within a split second she was at his side, kicking one away as she took the other out with her sword, making it seem all too easy.
"Chloe, dammit, the gun!" Dean shouted again, his breaths coming in short spurts as he held down the last zombie with the stick. He felt the butt enter his outstretched hand and with a single bullet, he sent the thing back to hell.
Resting the tip of the sword onto the ground, she looked down at him and offered him a hand to help him up.
Breathing heavily, he dropped the stick and took her hand, gladly accepting the help she offered. "See anymore?" he asked, trying to catch his breath as he put his unloaded gun away. And then stared at Chloe, who again looked like she could go a few more rounds.
She looked around, then slowly shook her head. "That's it." She offered him a tiny smile. "Nice job."
Dean smiled despite the pain he felt in his side. "Thanks," he said, looking down at her, then backing up a step. "Nice sword fighting," he commented, flinging a hand at the broadsword she held in her hand and focusing on evening out his breathing.
"Thanks. You okay?" she asked, a hint of worry in her eyes.
"Yeah," he said evenly after a minute, the breathing thing under control though the pain in his side not getting any better. He shooed her hands away. "No, really, I'll live. I've had much worse." He took a seat on top of a tombstone anyway, just in case. Suddenly, he missed Sam. This was the first time in awhile where he didn't have his brother by his side, and it just... felt strange.