SPN/SV Fic: Not a Fairy Tale
Title: Not a Fairy Tale
Author: X_tremeroswellian
Rated: PG-13
Disclaimer: Not mine. Don't sue. Thanks.
Author's Note: From the 'Little Things' prompt at spn_het_love. Follows my other two fics, "What's in a Name" and "Green Eyes."
Wordcount: 1,510
By the time he and Sam finally reached Metropolis, Kansas, Dean wanted nothing more than a decent cup of coffee.
Okay, not quite the whole truth, he admitted to himself. He still couldn't wait to see the pretty blonde's expression when they knocked on her door. He could already tell from the way Sam was looking up at the dorm building that his brother was having second thoughts.
"Don't start," he warned, shaking his head.
"I'm not sure this is a good idea, Dean."
"Hey, she issued the challenge. I just took her up on it," Dean responded, turning off the car engine and reaching for the door handle. "You can stay here if you want."
"First of all, I'm not sure it was as much of a challenge as it was a suggestion. Secondly, no way I'm staying here. With your luck she'll call the cops when she sees you," Sam retorted, climbing out of the passenger seat.
"Hey!" he protested, insulted. "Why the hell would she do that?"
"Because clearly she knows who you really are and knows you have a record. This is a bad move. We shouldn't be here."
Dean looked up toward the building. "If she wanted to turn me in...she would've already done it."
Sam sighed and looked away, hoping he was right.
_____________________________________________________
Chloe dropped her taser on the bed and winced a little as she stripped out of her dirt-and-blood-covered jacket, biting down hard on her tongue as she moved to the mirror on the back of her dorm room door to examine just how bad the wound in her shoulder was. It was still bleeding, but didn't appear to be deep enough to need stitches.
Thank God.
The knock on her door startled her and she glanced at her clock. It was just before 6 a.m. which meant that Clark either needed her help tracking down a meteor freak, another Luthor experiment gone wrong, or a Zoner. She briefly considered pulling another shirt on over her tank top, to cover the wound in her shoulder but dismissed it.
No point in covering up an injury when your best friend had x-ray vision.
Raking a hand through her blonde curls, Chloe reached out and unlocked the door. "You know, Clark, I'm surprised you even bothered knoc-" she stopped mid-sentence when she found herself face-to-face with Dean and Sam Winchester for the second time in less than a week. A smirk formed on her face and she leaned against the doorframe. "Well. I thought you would have found me a little sooner than this."
_____________________________________________
Dean smirked at the momentary flicker of surprise on her face as she stared at them. Then she smirked and leaned against the doorframe, his eyes drawn to the wound in her shoulder for a moment. The words that left her lips caught him off guard.
"Well. I thought you would have found me a little sooner than this."
He narrowed his eyes. "We're busy guys, Sweetheart."
Sam elbowed him in the ribs none-too-gently, coughing. "Sam Winchester," he said, extending his hand out toward her.
"Chloe Sullivan. Which you already knew." She smiled at him, shaking his hand, then looking at Dean once more.
"What happened?" he asked, nodding toward her shoulder.
She glanced down, as if she'd momentarily forgotten the wound. "Oh." She shrugged a little. "No big deal."
"Looks like a stab wound," Sam said, his eyes filled with concern as he gazed at her intently.
"Just a cut actually," Chloe told them, shrugging again as if bleeding cuts were part of her everyday life.
Well, hell, Dean thought. Why wouldn't they be? They were part of his and Sam's on a near daily basis.
"You gonna invite us in or what?"
She raised an eyebrow, then stepped aside to let them in. Dean headed inside first, looking around at the wall covered with articles and pictures of things most people chalked up to urban legends and tabloid reporting.
Sam hesitated a moment. "You normally let strange men into your room this early in the morning?"
Chloe smirked. "No, I usually wait until at least noon," she responded, a hint of teasing in her voice. Clearly she didn't feel the least bit threatened by their presence and again, Dean wondered who exactly they were dealing with.
Because she wasn't just some college sophomore with a penchant for the weird and a talent for writing.
"How'd you get into all this?" he asked, glancing at her and motioning toward the wall.
"Spent the last few years in Smallville, the meteor freak captial of the world."
"Smallville," Sam murmured, his eyebrows furrowing. "I've heard of that."
"I'm not surprised. We sort of hold a record on out-of-this-world weirdness. Even if it's not normally what the two of you deal with." She shrugged.
Dean looked at her intently. "And just how do you know so much about us?" he asked, more out of curiosity than annoyance.
A dazzling smile spread across her face and for a moment the breath hitched in his throat at the sight. She moved closer to him, her green eyes sparkling with mischeviousness. "Let's just say I do my homework."
Somehow the idea of homework had never sounded so appealing before and he met her gaze, very aware of the heat emminating from her body standing so near his own. He found himself wishing Sam had stayed down with the car.
"Are you a hunter?" Sam asked, gazing at her with curious eyes.
Chloe laughed. "Hah. No. I'm a journalist. I just happen to be fascinated by things that go bump in the night."
Dean's eyes twinkled with interest. "For someone who's just a journalist you sure took down that creature pretty fast the other night."
Her smile slipped a bit and he realized he'd unknowingly touched a nerve. "Survival instincts kicked in," she said evenly.
"Except you weren't in danger," he pressed, pursing his lips. "We were."
Her eyes locked on his. "So?"
"So you knew where the thing was gonna be. You were there to kill it." He didn't understand why she wouldn't admit it as she shifted her gaze away from his again.
Chloe lifted her chin a little. "So what if I was?" A hint of defensivness crept into her tone and he glanced at Sam who was shooting him a "shut up right now" look.
"Well, we really appreciated the help," Sam said quickly.
She relaxed a little, glancing over at him and offering him a small smile. "No problem. Glad I could help."
Dean watched her wince as she moved her arm. "You got any cotton balls and gauze?"
"I'm sorry?"
"Cotton balls and gauze." He motioned toward her shoulder.
She eyed him warily for a minute. "Yeah. Medicine cabinet in the bathroom."
Nodding, he headed into the small bathroom, not at all surprised at the amount of first aid materials were stuffed inside the medicine cabinet. He had a feeling there was an equal amount of weapons hidden in her room. He removed the gauze, the cotton balls, and the bottle of hydrogen peroxide before heading back out to the main room, a little surprised to see Sam and Chloe seated side-by-side at her computer, looking deep in conversation.
Well THAT hadn't taken long, he thought with a little annoyance. It bugged him that his little brother clicked with her so easily while he struggled not to say the wrong thing and piss her off again.
Then she looked at him, amusement twinkling in her green eyes and he was even more annoyed because it dawned on him she was intentionally trying to drive him crazy. "Let me see your shoulder," he said gruffly.
She smiled an enigmatic smile and sat on her desk, sliding the strap of her tank top down a little so he could get a look at the wound. He shifted closer to her, moving to stand between her legs as he inspected the injury, dubbed it artificial, and proceeded to gently cleanse the dirt from it with peroxide on cotton balls. He couldn't help but notice the small scar just a little lower than the injury, just beneath her collarbone, not completely healed yet.
"You do this a lot?"
Her voice was quiet and he met her gaze with an intense one of his own. "Play doctor?" he asked with a smirk that didn't reach his eyes.
She smirked in return. "Not what I meant, and that's really none of my business."
Sam rolled his eyes in annoyance.
"Could be," he murmured, leaning a little closer to her as he placed a bandage over the wound in her shoulder, his fingers brushing lightly over her soft skin.
Chloe cocked an eyebrow, reaching out and plucking a stray thread off his coat and letting it fall into the wastebasket beside her desk. Then she leaned a little closer to him. "I'm not interested in becoming another notch on your bedpost, Winchester. So save the Prince Charming routine for someone who believes in fairy tales."
Author: X_tremeroswellian
Rated: PG-13
Disclaimer: Not mine. Don't sue. Thanks.
Author's Note: From the 'Little Things' prompt at spn_het_love. Follows my other two fics, "What's in a Name" and "Green Eyes."
Wordcount: 1,510
By the time he and Sam finally reached Metropolis, Kansas, Dean wanted nothing more than a decent cup of coffee.
Okay, not quite the whole truth, he admitted to himself. He still couldn't wait to see the pretty blonde's expression when they knocked on her door. He could already tell from the way Sam was looking up at the dorm building that his brother was having second thoughts.
"Don't start," he warned, shaking his head.
"I'm not sure this is a good idea, Dean."
"Hey, she issued the challenge. I just took her up on it," Dean responded, turning off the car engine and reaching for the door handle. "You can stay here if you want."
"First of all, I'm not sure it was as much of a challenge as it was a suggestion. Secondly, no way I'm staying here. With your luck she'll call the cops when she sees you," Sam retorted, climbing out of the passenger seat.
"Hey!" he protested, insulted. "Why the hell would she do that?"
"Because clearly she knows who you really are and knows you have a record. This is a bad move. We shouldn't be here."
Dean looked up toward the building. "If she wanted to turn me in...she would've already done it."
Sam sighed and looked away, hoping he was right.
_____________________________________________________
Chloe dropped her taser on the bed and winced a little as she stripped out of her dirt-and-blood-covered jacket, biting down hard on her tongue as she moved to the mirror on the back of her dorm room door to examine just how bad the wound in her shoulder was. It was still bleeding, but didn't appear to be deep enough to need stitches.
Thank God.
The knock on her door startled her and she glanced at her clock. It was just before 6 a.m. which meant that Clark either needed her help tracking down a meteor freak, another Luthor experiment gone wrong, or a Zoner. She briefly considered pulling another shirt on over her tank top, to cover the wound in her shoulder but dismissed it.
No point in covering up an injury when your best friend had x-ray vision.
Raking a hand through her blonde curls, Chloe reached out and unlocked the door. "You know, Clark, I'm surprised you even bothered knoc-" she stopped mid-sentence when she found herself face-to-face with Dean and Sam Winchester for the second time in less than a week. A smirk formed on her face and she leaned against the doorframe. "Well. I thought you would have found me a little sooner than this."
_____________________________________________
Dean smirked at the momentary flicker of surprise on her face as she stared at them. Then she smirked and leaned against the doorframe, his eyes drawn to the wound in her shoulder for a moment. The words that left her lips caught him off guard.
"Well. I thought you would have found me a little sooner than this."
He narrowed his eyes. "We're busy guys, Sweetheart."
Sam elbowed him in the ribs none-too-gently, coughing. "Sam Winchester," he said, extending his hand out toward her.
"Chloe Sullivan. Which you already knew." She smiled at him, shaking his hand, then looking at Dean once more.
"What happened?" he asked, nodding toward her shoulder.
She glanced down, as if she'd momentarily forgotten the wound. "Oh." She shrugged a little. "No big deal."
"Looks like a stab wound," Sam said, his eyes filled with concern as he gazed at her intently.
"Just a cut actually," Chloe told them, shrugging again as if bleeding cuts were part of her everyday life.
Well, hell, Dean thought. Why wouldn't they be? They were part of his and Sam's on a near daily basis.
"You gonna invite us in or what?"
She raised an eyebrow, then stepped aside to let them in. Dean headed inside first, looking around at the wall covered with articles and pictures of things most people chalked up to urban legends and tabloid reporting.
Sam hesitated a moment. "You normally let strange men into your room this early in the morning?"
Chloe smirked. "No, I usually wait until at least noon," she responded, a hint of teasing in her voice. Clearly she didn't feel the least bit threatened by their presence and again, Dean wondered who exactly they were dealing with.
Because she wasn't just some college sophomore with a penchant for the weird and a talent for writing.
"How'd you get into all this?" he asked, glancing at her and motioning toward the wall.
"Spent the last few years in Smallville, the meteor freak captial of the world."
"Smallville," Sam murmured, his eyebrows furrowing. "I've heard of that."
"I'm not surprised. We sort of hold a record on out-of-this-world weirdness. Even if it's not normally what the two of you deal with." She shrugged.
Dean looked at her intently. "And just how do you know so much about us?" he asked, more out of curiosity than annoyance.
A dazzling smile spread across her face and for a moment the breath hitched in his throat at the sight. She moved closer to him, her green eyes sparkling with mischeviousness. "Let's just say I do my homework."
Somehow the idea of homework had never sounded so appealing before and he met her gaze, very aware of the heat emminating from her body standing so near his own. He found himself wishing Sam had stayed down with the car.
"Are you a hunter?" Sam asked, gazing at her with curious eyes.
Chloe laughed. "Hah. No. I'm a journalist. I just happen to be fascinated by things that go bump in the night."
Dean's eyes twinkled with interest. "For someone who's just a journalist you sure took down that creature pretty fast the other night."
Her smile slipped a bit and he realized he'd unknowingly touched a nerve. "Survival instincts kicked in," she said evenly.
"Except you weren't in danger," he pressed, pursing his lips. "We were."
Her eyes locked on his. "So?"
"So you knew where the thing was gonna be. You were there to kill it." He didn't understand why she wouldn't admit it as she shifted her gaze away from his again.
Chloe lifted her chin a little. "So what if I was?" A hint of defensivness crept into her tone and he glanced at Sam who was shooting him a "shut up right now" look.
"Well, we really appreciated the help," Sam said quickly.
She relaxed a little, glancing over at him and offering him a small smile. "No problem. Glad I could help."
Dean watched her wince as she moved her arm. "You got any cotton balls and gauze?"
"I'm sorry?"
"Cotton balls and gauze." He motioned toward her shoulder.
She eyed him warily for a minute. "Yeah. Medicine cabinet in the bathroom."
Nodding, he headed into the small bathroom, not at all surprised at the amount of first aid materials were stuffed inside the medicine cabinet. He had a feeling there was an equal amount of weapons hidden in her room. He removed the gauze, the cotton balls, and the bottle of hydrogen peroxide before heading back out to the main room, a little surprised to see Sam and Chloe seated side-by-side at her computer, looking deep in conversation.
Well THAT hadn't taken long, he thought with a little annoyance. It bugged him that his little brother clicked with her so easily while he struggled not to say the wrong thing and piss her off again.
Then she looked at him, amusement twinkling in her green eyes and he was even more annoyed because it dawned on him she was intentionally trying to drive him crazy. "Let me see your shoulder," he said gruffly.
She smiled an enigmatic smile and sat on her desk, sliding the strap of her tank top down a little so he could get a look at the wound. He shifted closer to her, moving to stand between her legs as he inspected the injury, dubbed it artificial, and proceeded to gently cleanse the dirt from it with peroxide on cotton balls. He couldn't help but notice the small scar just a little lower than the injury, just beneath her collarbone, not completely healed yet.
"You do this a lot?"
Her voice was quiet and he met her gaze with an intense one of his own. "Play doctor?" he asked with a smirk that didn't reach his eyes.
She smirked in return. "Not what I meant, and that's really none of my business."
Sam rolled his eyes in annoyance.
"Could be," he murmured, leaning a little closer to her as he placed a bandage over the wound in her shoulder, his fingers brushing lightly over her soft skin.
Chloe cocked an eyebrow, reaching out and plucking a stray thread off his coat and letting it fall into the wastebasket beside her desk. Then she leaned a little closer to him. "I'm not interested in becoming another notch on your bedpost, Winchester. So save the Prince Charming routine for someone who believes in fairy tales."