SPN/SV Fic: Sweet Surrender (1/?)
Title: Sweet Surrender
Authors: clarksmuse and xtremeroswellia
Fandoms: Supernatural/Smallville
Characters: Dean, Chloe, Sam, Clark, Lex, Dean/Chloe pairing
Rating: R to NC-17
Spoilers: General spoilers for the latter half of both SV and SPN
Disclaimer: Still don’t own any of these characters. Please don’t sue.
Feedback: is love and totally needed. It’s our crack that keeps us writing.
A/N: This is a new Dean/Chloe fic and totally unrelated to our "Two Guys" series. I hope y'all enjoy!
Sweet Surrender (Part One)
It didn't take much for Chloe Sullivan to become inebriated because Chloe Sullivan rarely ever drank. But her fake ID was the picture of perfection--she'd made it herself and sat at a table alone in a bar somewhere between Smallville and Star City. She'd spent the day in the latter, visiting her mother in the private hospital that Oliver Queen had arranged for her to be in. Far away from Lex Luthor. She didn't even like the taste of beer but by the time she was on her third one it wasn't as bad as she thought. She felt better actually. Bolder.
She watched as two incredibly attractive men walked into the bar, the taller one looking around with some amount of reservation, the older, shorter one looking instantly at ease as he ordered a drink. Keeping her eye on them, she took another drink.
"Sam, come one, we've gotta stop for the night," Dean complained loudly, taking a long drink of his dark beer, savoring the taste for a moment.
Sam rolled his eyes. Dean's need for entertainment hadn't ended with their ghost-hunting in Hollywood. "Fine, whatever," he replied, sitting at the bar. "I'm going to dig up some extra stuff on this next hunt."
Dean shook his head and moved away from his brother. Deep down inside, he was worried about Sam: ever since Madison, the youngest Winchester had been focused way too much on hunting. He had hoped romping around a movie set would've helped, but clearly Dean had to force Sam to cool it for a moment. He slumped onto a barstool a few seats away, leaning his back against the bar and scanning the dark, cigarette-filled room. He felt a pair of eyes on him, but he wasn't sure where the woman was sitting.
She watched the two with curious eyes. Even slightly drunk Chloe was inquisitive. After a moment she decided they had to be brothers. Interesting. Like she had a shot with either of them anyway. Letting out a breath, she looked back to the small stage where some guy was doing a really bad imitation of Aerosmith karaoke. Shaking her head a little, she finished off her beer and rose to her feet.
Pulling out his laptop, Sam grimaced at the off-key, drunken singing. "Dude, did we have to pick a place where they butcher your music... worse than it already is?" He scratched the back of his neck in irritation.
Dean laughed and downed the rest of his beer, turning to order another one. "Relax, Sammy. It's gotta get better." His eyes strayed to the karaoke stage, where a gorgeous but obviously drunk blonde woman was headed, a determined look on her face. Grabbing his drink, Dean smirked and scooted off the barstool. "I'll be back," he told his brother, moving towards the woman without waiting for a response from Sam.
"You can't sing buddy," Chloe told the guy as he moved off the stage.
Shoving the mic in her face, the drunk singer belched loudly and got in her face. "Can you do better?" he slurred.
Making a disgusted face, she took it from him. It wasn't the first time she'd done karaoke, of course. She and Lois were regulars at the Talon's karaoke night. Of course she'd never attempted karaoke drunk, but there was a first time for everything.
Dean moved through the crowd of people near the karaoke stage, positioning himself near the edge of the stage, just feet from her. Her blonde hair brushed her shoulders, making him swallow hard. She had chosen a song, and she was going to sing. He grinned widely at her, a knowing smirk on his face, his hand gripping the handle of his beer.
She was more than a little surprised to see that the older of the two brothers had moved to sit right at the front of the stage, his eyes drinking in the sight of her, a smirk on his face. He was cocky, sure of himself. If she hadn't been tipsy she wouldn't have dared to keep her eyes locked on his face as she sang along to her favorite Joan Jett song. "Singing I love rock and roll, so put another dime in the jukebox baby, so come on take your time and dance with me."
Had it not been for the fact that she kept blatantly staring at him, Dean would have grimaced. Jesus, he hated this song, and she wasn't making it any better. But the way she was checking him out, watching her eyes slide down his frame, the suggestive way she swung her hips, made him realize he'd never think of this song the same way again.
Taking a large swig of his beer, Dean Winchester remained glued to his spot on the floor, his eyes speaking volumes of desire for her.
"Said I'm gonna take you home where we can be alooone," she crooned, smirking at him.
"God, I hope so," he muttered under his breath, his eyes darkening and his body reacting to the way she walked towards him, sultry and seductive, albeit a little unsteadily.
Chloe finished the song, not paying any attention to who was heading up for the stage next as she made her way down the stairs, stumbling just a little, her gaze still locked on the man. She licked her lips, for once not thinking about Clark or Jimmy or anyone else and just wondering what it would be like to be someone else for a night. She brushed against him on her way to her table to retrieve her purse.
Her touch was gentle but suggestive of just what he was looking for. He immediately turned and followed her. When she stopped suddenly near a table, Dean almost bumped into her. "Hey there," he whispered, his lips close to her ear. "Buy you a drink?"
"I think I've had enough drinking for the night," she responded, both pleased and surprised that he'd taken the hint.
He smirked and cocked an eyebrow. "Taking off, then?" he asked smoothly, swallowing the rest of his beer quickly before flashing a brilliant smile her way. She was beautiful, even drunk.
She smirked. "Yeah. But I probably shouldn't be driving. I could use an escort." She held her keys up in front of her, raising her eyebrows.
He grabbed them from her hands, a satisfied grin on his face. "I can do that," he whispered, grabbing her hand and pulling her against him when she started to stumble over her feet. "Just gotta do something first."
The warmth from his body radiated through her own as she found her arms suddenly around his waist. He smelled good, felt strong. Different from Clark, and definitely different from Jimmy, but not in a bad way. She followed as he pulled her over toward the bar where the younger man she assumed was his brother was sitting.
Dean tossed the Impala's keys on the bar next to Sam's hand. "Dude, I'll be back."
Sam glanced at his brother, seeing a pretty though drunk girl in tow. "Dean," he whispered in protest, a little frustrated that his brother couldn't keep his upstairs brain in the hunting game.
Dean rolled his eyes and pulled Chloe against him, slinging his arm around her shoulders to support her. "Come on, let's get you home," he whispered, biting her earlobe gently.
"Don't have one," she murmured as he guided her toward the door, her eyes drifting shut sleepily. "Yaris," she said as they made it outside in the cool air.
Grimacing at the note of despair in her voice, he found the car she described and leaned her against it to unlock the door. He leaned into her, kissing her full lips soundly, unable to resist the way she had parted them in anticipation.
She groaned softly, pulling him closer so that their bodies were pressed together, her back against the car door. The usually smart part of her brain was too fuzzy to tell her going anywhere with a strange man was a really stupid idea, and somewhere deep down inside even though she knew it was bad and dangerous, she just didn't give a damn anymore.
Dean groaned loudly, tugging at her shirt to slip his hand underneath. She tasted like heaven, he thought briefly. His body strained against hers as she moved against him, her thighs brushing his bulging fly.
The feel of his hands against her bare skin caused the breath to hitch in her throat. She swallowed hard, leaning her head back against the car, her eyes closed.
"If you don't stop moving like that, we won't make it back to your place," he whispered against her lips, reluctantly moving away to look into her dazed, glassy green eyes. He wondered if she knew what she was doing and thought she hadn't done anything like this before. His hands stilled on her waist.
"Well, I don't have a place here. I'm between places," she said with a small smile.
He smirked. "What, you're living out of your car?" He gripped her waist gently, teasingly.
Chloe grinned, resting her hands against his chest. "I was visiting someone out of town. I don't live here."
Burying his face into her neck, he breathed in her scent and smiled. "Got a motel for the night?" he asked suggestively.
"Not yet." She bit her lower lip, sliding her fingers through his short hair as she felt his lips against her skin.
"Time to get one." Kissing her neck once more, he pushed the unlock button on her keychain, hearing the door pop before pulling away. He opened the door, grinning at her.
She smiled back at him and slid into the passenger seat as he shut the door behind her. She closed her eyes, yawning as she sank down in the seat further.
Dean started the car, listening to the small engine roar with a grimace, and drove off to the nearest hotel. The one he and Sam happened to be staying at. He glanced over at her, wondering again if this chick... this woman... knew what she was doing. Pulling into the parking lot, Dean ran a hand through his hair. Maybe this wasn't something he should be doing, he thought.
The lack of motion from the car woke her from a light sleep and she opened her eyes, looking around. "Guess we're here," she murmured, reaching for the door handle.
A ghost of a smile lit up his face. "Yep, we are," he whispered, getting out and moving quickly for the front lobby to get a room for them.
She stumbled into the lobby, almost knocking over a plant just inside the door and giggling. "Sorry," she told the guard.
Dean stopped in his tracks, feeling her body bump against his. He turned and grabbed her to keep her from falling. "Watch it," he whispered with a smirk. "Breaking your head? Not a good idea."
She grinned involuntarily. "My head's hard. It wouldn't break."
He kissed her hard. "Wanna bet?" he whispered, leading her towards the front desk to a room key.
She watched as he grabbed the key from the man behind the counter. "Sorry. I don't bet with money I don't have."
Picking her up and pressing her against his chest, he whispered, "Guess I'll take my chances with you, then." He carried her quickly down the hall towards the room, putting her down only long enough to unlock the door.
She wound her arms around his neck, breathing in the faint scent of his cologne as he carried her into the room and locked the door behind them.
Carrying her to the large bed in the center of the room, Dean laid her down, pressing her into the soft mattress and meeting her lips with his once again, sliding his tongue against her lips to deepen their kiss.
She groaned softly, letting her lips part to allow him entrance. This certainly wasn't something she'd planned on the drive back but his body was warm and she just wanted to feel warm and safe for a few hours.
Pushing them back onto the bed, Dean's mouth moved over hers, plundering hers while his hands worked underneath her blouse once more. Her skin was hot, and he knew she wanted him just as much as he did her. Something felt... off, though.
Keeping her eyes closed, Chloe drew in a breath as his hands explored her bare skin again. Some tiny part of her brain nagged at her that he'd probably try and kill her post-coitus. That was just the kind of luck she'd had the last few years. She slid her hands against his chest slowly.
Sighing, he pulled away from her mouth and looked down at her, eyes dark with lust. He wanted to ask what was wrong but hesitated. Rolling over onto his back, he put a hand over his eyes. He wondered what the hell he was doing suddenly, why he was with this girl who seemed too... innocent... for him.
And just like that, he'd moved away, laying down beside her instead of removing her clothes. Well, that was unexpected. "What is it?"
"Maybe we shouldn't... do this." Dean couldn't believe the words that slipped out of his mouth. "You're drunk." He snuck a glance at her confused, sleepy face.
A short laugh escaped her. "Since when do guys care about that?"
Dean Winchester had never been concerned with that before. Ever. But it still felt wrong. "Since... you look like you could use some... sleep." Great, lame, he thought, pulling her against his body.
Sighing softly, she shut her eyes once more, burying her face against his neck. "Whatever you say," she murmured.
Sighing, he kissed her cheek gently. "I'm not gonna take advantage of you like this," he whispered, curling her body against his.
It was the last thing she heard before she drifted off to sleep, warm and content. In the morning, she woke first and to her surprise he was still lying there, asleep, his arms draped around her in a protective manner. Wondering who this man was and realizing it didn't really matter, she slowly extracted herself from his embrace. Pressing a kiss to his cheek, she gazed at him for a long moment before scratching out a single word on a piece of paper and leaving it beside him as she grabbed her purse and slipped out the door without waking him.
The morning light shone in his eyes, waking him up. Unconsciously, Dean rolled over, opening his eyes, confused momentarily at his surroundings. It was then he realized he was alone.
He sat up. She was gone. He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. Getting her number was something he'd forgotten to do, possibly something he'd regret in the future. His hand touched a piece of paper on the pillow that still held the indention of her head and smiled faintly. He picked it up and read the word: "Thanks".
"For what?" he snorted softly, wishing he knew her name and why she had been in that bar.
&&&&&
Dean sat with his brother, drinking his coffee and glancing around at the tackiness of the coffee shop walls. "I wonder why they call this... the Talon?" he asked out loud. "Looks more like something you'd find out of a horror story." He glanced over at Sam, whose face was buried behind the computer.
"The crow is the town's school mascot," he murmured, not looking up.
He rolled his eyes at Sam. "You're a walking encyclopedia of all things trivial," he commented idly, taking another sip of his coffee. "So why are we in... Smallville, Kansas of all places?"
"Because a lot of weird things happen in this town," Sam responded. "Get this. In the past week, three people have been killed on the east side of town. Cause of death? They were crushed to death. And not by some machine."
Dean put his mug down on the table and frowned. "You gonna tell me by what, then? We talking demon, vampire, zombie?"
"I don't know. That's what we need to find out."
He was about to agree when he saw a familiar sight stride through the front door. His mouth stood agape at the view of that blonde woman he'd spent the night with only a day ago. A woman he couldn't stop thinking about. "What the hell?" he asked out loud, blinking in surprise.
"What?" Sam asked, his eyebrows furrowing as he looked up to see what was wrong. His own eyes widened a little as he watched the familiar girl move across the room and grab a cappuccino before heading up the staircase.
"Don't go anywhere," Dean said, standing up immediately to follow her.
"Dean," Sam hissed in a low warning tone, though it fell on deaf ears.
Speeding up the stairs, Dean called out, "Hey!" He put on his best smile when she turned to look at him, looking as surprised as he was.
Chloe stared at him with shock registered on her expression. "Did you follow me?" she couldn't help asking.
The smile faltered. "No," he replied honestly. "Sam and I just got here this morning." He cocked his head, gazing at her wary green eyes. He could tell she wasn't happy to see him, though for the life of him, he couldn't stop looking at her.
Her gaze moved past him to the tall man whom she vaguely recalled from the bar and saw that he was gazing back at them with uncertainty. "Your brother?" She shifted her eyes back to his face.
His eyes followed her gaze, questions written in his eyes. "Yeah," he replied, grimacing a little at the look on Sam's face as he stared at the local newspaper. Whatever he'd found wasn't good. "My brother's enjoying the newspaper."
"Which one?"
"The geek boy reading the paper." He pointed at Sam and looked at her. Something amused her, because he dropped his hand and grinned. "Something funny?"
"No, I meant which paper. I knew which guy you were talking about." She smirked a little.
"Whatever paper this ri-- really pretty town has." He smirked back at her, enjoying the way she was sizing him up. Almost as if she thought of his as a challenge.
Chloe arched an eyebrow, lifting her cappuccino to her lips and taking a sip. "Well, there are three. The school paper, the Inquisitor and the Ledger. Although he could be reading the Daily Planet, as well."
He snorted. "Knowing Sam, he's started with the local one... the Ledger, I think." He fell silent, swallowing hard as a bout of unusual shyness overcame him.
"So what are you guys doing here anyway?" It occurred to her that she didn't even know what his name was.
He thought of the first thing to enter his mind. "Road trip," he replied with a goofy grin. "We're going across country, checking out all the interesting sites this country has to offer." He leaned in a little bit and smiled, that action reaching his eyes. "The places and the people."
"And you deemed the leafy little hamlet of Smallville interesting?" she asked, leaning a little closer to him as well.
"Having seen its people?" he whispered, his lips a breadth away from hers. "Definitely." He gripped the railing, thankful to be out of site from the inhabitants below, especially since he wanted nothing more than to finish what they had started not too long ago.
A smile quirked her lips as she held his gaze for a moment, then let it drop to his mouth. "I see."
Moving into her, he touched his lips to hers softly, pushing her back against the door with his body slowly. When she responded by digging a hand into his chest, he fought against the urge to whisk her into the room behind the door and have his way with her. He kept his hands off her, though he couldn't stop kissing her.
The breath caught in her throat as they kissed with an urgency she'd never felt before.
A low growl rumbled in his throat as he broke the kiss, feeling not a little unsteady. "That your way of saying hello or goodbye?" he muttered, his eyes never straying from her lush, full lips.
"Hey, you kissed me," she retorted.
"Yeah, but you kissed me back," Dean protested with a knowing smirk, lifting his eyes to look into hers: they remained wary, though he saw the fire lit behind them.
"Do you always kiss strange women whose names you don't know?" She smirked back.
Feeling like he'd been drenched with cold water, he stood back and regarded her. "Sure, it happens all the time," he commented idly, glancing back at his brother, who still seemed engrossed in the newspaper.
Somehow she wasn't surprised by that announcement. He definitely looked like the love 'em and leave 'em type. "What is your name?"
"Dean Winchester," he blurted out thoughtlessly, not looking at her. He grimaced when he realized what he'd said. If Sam found out, their cover would be blown, he thought, turning to look back at her. "Yours?"
"Chloe Sullivan," she responded, gazing at him intently. "How long are you in town?"
A lazy smile crossed his lips as he regarded her. "Depends." He suddenly hoped they'd run into some roadblocks: this Chloe Sullivan was worth sticking around for.
"Hmm." She leaned back against the door, still gazing at him. "Do you wanna come in?"
Dean couldn't hide the mild surprise he felt at her question. He had assumed she'd be ready and waiting to get rid of him at this point, especially since something in her voice told him something was seriously wrong with her. It was almost as if... Mentally shaking off that though, he grinned. "Am I gonna get regret it if I said hell yes?"
A slow smirk spread across her face. "Well, I really hope not." She turned and unlocked the door, stepping into the apartment.
Glancing once more at his brother, Dean realized Sam would be at the paper for awhile and waltzed through the door she held open for him. Once inside, he quickly perused the one-room apartment, large bed on one end with the living area on the other. For a second, he was torn between which way to turn, though he saw Chloe move past him into the kitchen. "So... you live here?" he asked casually.
"Only when I'm not at work," she said with a faint smirk as she moved over to the fridge, pulling it open and grabbing a beer from the door and setting it on the table in front of him.
Taking it, he popped it open and took a large swig. "Which is where?" he asked, turning his back to her to check out the books on her shelves.
"The Daily Planet," Chloe responded without hesitation.
"Really?"
"Yes, really." She lifted her chin a little, feeling slightly defensive.
Dean felt more than saw her irritation and turned to look at her. "That's great," he replied, taking another sip. "You could tell us all about Smallville."
Chloe felt her stomach tighten a little, wondering who this guy was and why he was really there. "Not sure what you wanna know."
"Oh, you know, the sights," he continued, wishing he had Sam's ability to put people at ease when asking leading questions. "Items of importance. The old. The weird, strange, and unusual."
Her eyes narrowed a little at his last words. "What makes you think there's anything weird, strange or unusual about Smallville?" she asked casually.
Clapping the bottle on the counter, Dean turned to look her in the eye. "Gee, I don't know. This is the Meteor Capital of the World, right? At least that's what the sign said on the way in." He took a step towards her, growing more irritated by the second. "That has to do something to a town."
Feeling uneasy, she stepped away from him without thinking about it, her gaze darting nervously toward the telephone. "So what are you? Some kind of paranormal investigator?" she shot back.
Damn, that hit too hard at home, he grimaced inwardly, never taking his eyes off hers. "That's one way of putting it, yeah." Turning, he made for the door. "I thought maybe you could help, but you're a little too freaked out by my presence to be useful." He felt like a heel, leaving without asking if she needed help, but the fact she kept gazing at him like he was a monster was all he needed to get out.
Her eyes darkened with anger as she darted toward the door, shutting it just as he started to open it. She glared at him, her breathing a little heavier than usual. "I've been accused of a lot of things before in my life, but not being useful? That's a new one."
"Hey, I was just asking you questions," he growled, the urge to get in her face and shake her strong. He balled his fists to keep from moving. "You're the one looking at me like I've grown a horn on my head."
"You know if this is your way of seducing a woman, you must be a virgin," she snapped.
He folded his arms, an amused gleam in his eyes. "So you're telling me you asked me here so I could seduce you while sober?" He would have bet had he picked her up properly while she'd been drunk, there wouldn't have been this level of argumentation.
Chloe's cheeks flushed. Is that what she'd wanted, expected? "Who asked you here? I'm not convinced you didn't follow me here from the motel this morning." She lifted her chin and looked at him defiantly.
So his instincts had been correct. Chloe Sullivan was being followed, and that was creeping her out. He frowned and took a step back, gazing at the worry she couldn't hide in her eyes. "Yeah, I'm a real stalker," he retorted, shaking his head. "Sam and I are on the prowl for pretty blondes. That's why he's scouring the newspapers downstairs looking for something that'll give us a lead."
She fell silent, staring at him intently as she struggled to decide whether or not he was there to kill her or if he really was just interested in the weirdness that was Smallville. Which of course, included her, whether he knew it or not. "All right. Then tell me why you are here. What are you looking for, specifically?" Her body was tense, her eyes wary.
Running a hand over his face, Dean groaned. "Sam thinks there's... something killing people here. Three deaths in the last week, all the victims crushed by something that isn't a machine." He cocked his head and gazed at her. "Know anything about that?"
Chloe's face paled a little, knowing exactly what he was talking about. It was the same case she and Clark had been investigating, and she'd narrowed her list of suspects down to one: an escapee of 33.1. The same escapee that had helped her and her mother escape the same facility. She slowly turned away from him, her heart thudding dully in her chest.
Having watched the various emotions cross her face, he knew she knew something. Maybe exactly the information he needed to get Sam and solve this case. "I'll take that as a yes," he replied, staring at her back, watching the way her hair fell against her neck in all the places he wanted to kiss.
She chewed on her thumbnail, trying to calm her frazzled nerves. "You could say that."
"So is there some way Sam and I can... help?" Dean kept his tone and face carefully neutral, especially since he had realized she might somehow be at the center of this situation.
Chloe's head dropped forward a little, her shoulders slumping as she swallowed hard. "No. This is a problem I have to deal with."
"You're kidding me, right?" Dean asked, forgetting to sound concerned for her well-being. Especially considering her response was... stupid.
Growing annoyed once more, she turned to face him. "Do I look like I'm kidding?" she snapped, her eyes dark and narrowed.
"No, you look like one of those damn independent women who drive me nuts on way too many levels!" With that, Dean grabbed the doorknob once more, hauling the door open with a violent jerk.
"Sorry. If you're looking for a damsel in distress, you should look elsewhere," she said evenly, folding her arms across her chest.
Turning to look at her in the doorway, he snapped, "Believe me, I have better things to do than save drunk women from themselves." Angry, hurt, and irritated, he left the apartment in a hurry, anxious to get to work and get out of this stupid one cow town.
Chloe flinched involuntarily at his words, watching him go before slamming the door shut behind him. She rested her back against it, hot tears stinging her eyes. She shut them tightly, forcing herself to take a deep breath. She wouldn't cry. Not now, and certainly not because of some guy she barely knew. She didn't have time for tears or romantic entanglements. Especially not with someone as infuriating as Dean Winchester.
Authors: clarksmuse and xtremeroswellia
Fandoms: Supernatural/Smallville
Characters: Dean, Chloe, Sam, Clark, Lex, Dean/Chloe pairing
Rating: R to NC-17
Spoilers: General spoilers for the latter half of both SV and SPN
Disclaimer: Still don’t own any of these characters. Please don’t sue.
Feedback: is love and totally needed. It’s our crack that keeps us writing.
A/N: This is a new Dean/Chloe fic and totally unrelated to our "Two Guys" series. I hope y'all enjoy!
Sweet Surrender (Part One)
It didn't take much for Chloe Sullivan to become inebriated because Chloe Sullivan rarely ever drank. But her fake ID was the picture of perfection--she'd made it herself and sat at a table alone in a bar somewhere between Smallville and Star City. She'd spent the day in the latter, visiting her mother in the private hospital that Oliver Queen had arranged for her to be in. Far away from Lex Luthor. She didn't even like the taste of beer but by the time she was on her third one it wasn't as bad as she thought. She felt better actually. Bolder.
She watched as two incredibly attractive men walked into the bar, the taller one looking around with some amount of reservation, the older, shorter one looking instantly at ease as he ordered a drink. Keeping her eye on them, she took another drink.
"Sam, come one, we've gotta stop for the night," Dean complained loudly, taking a long drink of his dark beer, savoring the taste for a moment.
Sam rolled his eyes. Dean's need for entertainment hadn't ended with their ghost-hunting in Hollywood. "Fine, whatever," he replied, sitting at the bar. "I'm going to dig up some extra stuff on this next hunt."
Dean shook his head and moved away from his brother. Deep down inside, he was worried about Sam: ever since Madison, the youngest Winchester had been focused way too much on hunting. He had hoped romping around a movie set would've helped, but clearly Dean had to force Sam to cool it for a moment. He slumped onto a barstool a few seats away, leaning his back against the bar and scanning the dark, cigarette-filled room. He felt a pair of eyes on him, but he wasn't sure where the woman was sitting.
She watched the two with curious eyes. Even slightly drunk Chloe was inquisitive. After a moment she decided they had to be brothers. Interesting. Like she had a shot with either of them anyway. Letting out a breath, she looked back to the small stage where some guy was doing a really bad imitation of Aerosmith karaoke. Shaking her head a little, she finished off her beer and rose to her feet.
Pulling out his laptop, Sam grimaced at the off-key, drunken singing. "Dude, did we have to pick a place where they butcher your music... worse than it already is?" He scratched the back of his neck in irritation.
Dean laughed and downed the rest of his beer, turning to order another one. "Relax, Sammy. It's gotta get better." His eyes strayed to the karaoke stage, where a gorgeous but obviously drunk blonde woman was headed, a determined look on her face. Grabbing his drink, Dean smirked and scooted off the barstool. "I'll be back," he told his brother, moving towards the woman without waiting for a response from Sam.
"You can't sing buddy," Chloe told the guy as he moved off the stage.
Shoving the mic in her face, the drunk singer belched loudly and got in her face. "Can you do better?" he slurred.
Making a disgusted face, she took it from him. It wasn't the first time she'd done karaoke, of course. She and Lois were regulars at the Talon's karaoke night. Of course she'd never attempted karaoke drunk, but there was a first time for everything.
Dean moved through the crowd of people near the karaoke stage, positioning himself near the edge of the stage, just feet from her. Her blonde hair brushed her shoulders, making him swallow hard. She had chosen a song, and she was going to sing. He grinned widely at her, a knowing smirk on his face, his hand gripping the handle of his beer.
She was more than a little surprised to see that the older of the two brothers had moved to sit right at the front of the stage, his eyes drinking in the sight of her, a smirk on his face. He was cocky, sure of himself. If she hadn't been tipsy she wouldn't have dared to keep her eyes locked on his face as she sang along to her favorite Joan Jett song. "Singing I love rock and roll, so put another dime in the jukebox baby, so come on take your time and dance with me."
Had it not been for the fact that she kept blatantly staring at him, Dean would have grimaced. Jesus, he hated this song, and she wasn't making it any better. But the way she was checking him out, watching her eyes slide down his frame, the suggestive way she swung her hips, made him realize he'd never think of this song the same way again.
Taking a large swig of his beer, Dean Winchester remained glued to his spot on the floor, his eyes speaking volumes of desire for her.
"Said I'm gonna take you home where we can be alooone," she crooned, smirking at him.
"God, I hope so," he muttered under his breath, his eyes darkening and his body reacting to the way she walked towards him, sultry and seductive, albeit a little unsteadily.
Chloe finished the song, not paying any attention to who was heading up for the stage next as she made her way down the stairs, stumbling just a little, her gaze still locked on the man. She licked her lips, for once not thinking about Clark or Jimmy or anyone else and just wondering what it would be like to be someone else for a night. She brushed against him on her way to her table to retrieve her purse.
Her touch was gentle but suggestive of just what he was looking for. He immediately turned and followed her. When she stopped suddenly near a table, Dean almost bumped into her. "Hey there," he whispered, his lips close to her ear. "Buy you a drink?"
"I think I've had enough drinking for the night," she responded, both pleased and surprised that he'd taken the hint.
He smirked and cocked an eyebrow. "Taking off, then?" he asked smoothly, swallowing the rest of his beer quickly before flashing a brilliant smile her way. She was beautiful, even drunk.
She smirked. "Yeah. But I probably shouldn't be driving. I could use an escort." She held her keys up in front of her, raising her eyebrows.
He grabbed them from her hands, a satisfied grin on his face. "I can do that," he whispered, grabbing her hand and pulling her against him when she started to stumble over her feet. "Just gotta do something first."
The warmth from his body radiated through her own as she found her arms suddenly around his waist. He smelled good, felt strong. Different from Clark, and definitely different from Jimmy, but not in a bad way. She followed as he pulled her over toward the bar where the younger man she assumed was his brother was sitting.
Dean tossed the Impala's keys on the bar next to Sam's hand. "Dude, I'll be back."
Sam glanced at his brother, seeing a pretty though drunk girl in tow. "Dean," he whispered in protest, a little frustrated that his brother couldn't keep his upstairs brain in the hunting game.
Dean rolled his eyes and pulled Chloe against him, slinging his arm around her shoulders to support her. "Come on, let's get you home," he whispered, biting her earlobe gently.
"Don't have one," she murmured as he guided her toward the door, her eyes drifting shut sleepily. "Yaris," she said as they made it outside in the cool air.
Grimacing at the note of despair in her voice, he found the car she described and leaned her against it to unlock the door. He leaned into her, kissing her full lips soundly, unable to resist the way she had parted them in anticipation.
She groaned softly, pulling him closer so that their bodies were pressed together, her back against the car door. The usually smart part of her brain was too fuzzy to tell her going anywhere with a strange man was a really stupid idea, and somewhere deep down inside even though she knew it was bad and dangerous, she just didn't give a damn anymore.
Dean groaned loudly, tugging at her shirt to slip his hand underneath. She tasted like heaven, he thought briefly. His body strained against hers as she moved against him, her thighs brushing his bulging fly.
The feel of his hands against her bare skin caused the breath to hitch in her throat. She swallowed hard, leaning her head back against the car, her eyes closed.
"If you don't stop moving like that, we won't make it back to your place," he whispered against her lips, reluctantly moving away to look into her dazed, glassy green eyes. He wondered if she knew what she was doing and thought she hadn't done anything like this before. His hands stilled on her waist.
"Well, I don't have a place here. I'm between places," she said with a small smile.
He smirked. "What, you're living out of your car?" He gripped her waist gently, teasingly.
Chloe grinned, resting her hands against his chest. "I was visiting someone out of town. I don't live here."
Burying his face into her neck, he breathed in her scent and smiled. "Got a motel for the night?" he asked suggestively.
"Not yet." She bit her lower lip, sliding her fingers through his short hair as she felt his lips against her skin.
"Time to get one." Kissing her neck once more, he pushed the unlock button on her keychain, hearing the door pop before pulling away. He opened the door, grinning at her.
She smiled back at him and slid into the passenger seat as he shut the door behind her. She closed her eyes, yawning as she sank down in the seat further.
Dean started the car, listening to the small engine roar with a grimace, and drove off to the nearest hotel. The one he and Sam happened to be staying at. He glanced over at her, wondering again if this chick... this woman... knew what she was doing. Pulling into the parking lot, Dean ran a hand through his hair. Maybe this wasn't something he should be doing, he thought.
The lack of motion from the car woke her from a light sleep and she opened her eyes, looking around. "Guess we're here," she murmured, reaching for the door handle.
A ghost of a smile lit up his face. "Yep, we are," he whispered, getting out and moving quickly for the front lobby to get a room for them.
She stumbled into the lobby, almost knocking over a plant just inside the door and giggling. "Sorry," she told the guard.
Dean stopped in his tracks, feeling her body bump against his. He turned and grabbed her to keep her from falling. "Watch it," he whispered with a smirk. "Breaking your head? Not a good idea."
She grinned involuntarily. "My head's hard. It wouldn't break."
He kissed her hard. "Wanna bet?" he whispered, leading her towards the front desk to a room key.
She watched as he grabbed the key from the man behind the counter. "Sorry. I don't bet with money I don't have."
Picking her up and pressing her against his chest, he whispered, "Guess I'll take my chances with you, then." He carried her quickly down the hall towards the room, putting her down only long enough to unlock the door.
She wound her arms around his neck, breathing in the faint scent of his cologne as he carried her into the room and locked the door behind them.
Carrying her to the large bed in the center of the room, Dean laid her down, pressing her into the soft mattress and meeting her lips with his once again, sliding his tongue against her lips to deepen their kiss.
She groaned softly, letting her lips part to allow him entrance. This certainly wasn't something she'd planned on the drive back but his body was warm and she just wanted to feel warm and safe for a few hours.
Pushing them back onto the bed, Dean's mouth moved over hers, plundering hers while his hands worked underneath her blouse once more. Her skin was hot, and he knew she wanted him just as much as he did her. Something felt... off, though.
Keeping her eyes closed, Chloe drew in a breath as his hands explored her bare skin again. Some tiny part of her brain nagged at her that he'd probably try and kill her post-coitus. That was just the kind of luck she'd had the last few years. She slid her hands against his chest slowly.
Sighing, he pulled away from her mouth and looked down at her, eyes dark with lust. He wanted to ask what was wrong but hesitated. Rolling over onto his back, he put a hand over his eyes. He wondered what the hell he was doing suddenly, why he was with this girl who seemed too... innocent... for him.
And just like that, he'd moved away, laying down beside her instead of removing her clothes. Well, that was unexpected. "What is it?"
"Maybe we shouldn't... do this." Dean couldn't believe the words that slipped out of his mouth. "You're drunk." He snuck a glance at her confused, sleepy face.
A short laugh escaped her. "Since when do guys care about that?"
Dean Winchester had never been concerned with that before. Ever. But it still felt wrong. "Since... you look like you could use some... sleep." Great, lame, he thought, pulling her against his body.
Sighing softly, she shut her eyes once more, burying her face against his neck. "Whatever you say," she murmured.
Sighing, he kissed her cheek gently. "I'm not gonna take advantage of you like this," he whispered, curling her body against his.
It was the last thing she heard before she drifted off to sleep, warm and content. In the morning, she woke first and to her surprise he was still lying there, asleep, his arms draped around her in a protective manner. Wondering who this man was and realizing it didn't really matter, she slowly extracted herself from his embrace. Pressing a kiss to his cheek, she gazed at him for a long moment before scratching out a single word on a piece of paper and leaving it beside him as she grabbed her purse and slipped out the door without waking him.
The morning light shone in his eyes, waking him up. Unconsciously, Dean rolled over, opening his eyes, confused momentarily at his surroundings. It was then he realized he was alone.
He sat up. She was gone. He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. Getting her number was something he'd forgotten to do, possibly something he'd regret in the future. His hand touched a piece of paper on the pillow that still held the indention of her head and smiled faintly. He picked it up and read the word: "Thanks".
"For what?" he snorted softly, wishing he knew her name and why she had been in that bar.
&&&&&
Dean sat with his brother, drinking his coffee and glancing around at the tackiness of the coffee shop walls. "I wonder why they call this... the Talon?" he asked out loud. "Looks more like something you'd find out of a horror story." He glanced over at Sam, whose face was buried behind the computer.
"The crow is the town's school mascot," he murmured, not looking up.
He rolled his eyes at Sam. "You're a walking encyclopedia of all things trivial," he commented idly, taking another sip of his coffee. "So why are we in... Smallville, Kansas of all places?"
"Because a lot of weird things happen in this town," Sam responded. "Get this. In the past week, three people have been killed on the east side of town. Cause of death? They were crushed to death. And not by some machine."
Dean put his mug down on the table and frowned. "You gonna tell me by what, then? We talking demon, vampire, zombie?"
"I don't know. That's what we need to find out."
He was about to agree when he saw a familiar sight stride through the front door. His mouth stood agape at the view of that blonde woman he'd spent the night with only a day ago. A woman he couldn't stop thinking about. "What the hell?" he asked out loud, blinking in surprise.
"What?" Sam asked, his eyebrows furrowing as he looked up to see what was wrong. His own eyes widened a little as he watched the familiar girl move across the room and grab a cappuccino before heading up the staircase.
"Don't go anywhere," Dean said, standing up immediately to follow her.
"Dean," Sam hissed in a low warning tone, though it fell on deaf ears.
Speeding up the stairs, Dean called out, "Hey!" He put on his best smile when she turned to look at him, looking as surprised as he was.
Chloe stared at him with shock registered on her expression. "Did you follow me?" she couldn't help asking.
The smile faltered. "No," he replied honestly. "Sam and I just got here this morning." He cocked his head, gazing at her wary green eyes. He could tell she wasn't happy to see him, though for the life of him, he couldn't stop looking at her.
Her gaze moved past him to the tall man whom she vaguely recalled from the bar and saw that he was gazing back at them with uncertainty. "Your brother?" She shifted her eyes back to his face.
His eyes followed her gaze, questions written in his eyes. "Yeah," he replied, grimacing a little at the look on Sam's face as he stared at the local newspaper. Whatever he'd found wasn't good. "My brother's enjoying the newspaper."
"Which one?"
"The geek boy reading the paper." He pointed at Sam and looked at her. Something amused her, because he dropped his hand and grinned. "Something funny?"
"No, I meant which paper. I knew which guy you were talking about." She smirked a little.
"Whatever paper this ri-- really pretty town has." He smirked back at her, enjoying the way she was sizing him up. Almost as if she thought of his as a challenge.
Chloe arched an eyebrow, lifting her cappuccino to her lips and taking a sip. "Well, there are three. The school paper, the Inquisitor and the Ledger. Although he could be reading the Daily Planet, as well."
He snorted. "Knowing Sam, he's started with the local one... the Ledger, I think." He fell silent, swallowing hard as a bout of unusual shyness overcame him.
"So what are you guys doing here anyway?" It occurred to her that she didn't even know what his name was.
He thought of the first thing to enter his mind. "Road trip," he replied with a goofy grin. "We're going across country, checking out all the interesting sites this country has to offer." He leaned in a little bit and smiled, that action reaching his eyes. "The places and the people."
"And you deemed the leafy little hamlet of Smallville interesting?" she asked, leaning a little closer to him as well.
"Having seen its people?" he whispered, his lips a breadth away from hers. "Definitely." He gripped the railing, thankful to be out of site from the inhabitants below, especially since he wanted nothing more than to finish what they had started not too long ago.
A smile quirked her lips as she held his gaze for a moment, then let it drop to his mouth. "I see."
Moving into her, he touched his lips to hers softly, pushing her back against the door with his body slowly. When she responded by digging a hand into his chest, he fought against the urge to whisk her into the room behind the door and have his way with her. He kept his hands off her, though he couldn't stop kissing her.
The breath caught in her throat as they kissed with an urgency she'd never felt before.
A low growl rumbled in his throat as he broke the kiss, feeling not a little unsteady. "That your way of saying hello or goodbye?" he muttered, his eyes never straying from her lush, full lips.
"Hey, you kissed me," she retorted.
"Yeah, but you kissed me back," Dean protested with a knowing smirk, lifting his eyes to look into hers: they remained wary, though he saw the fire lit behind them.
"Do you always kiss strange women whose names you don't know?" She smirked back.
Feeling like he'd been drenched with cold water, he stood back and regarded her. "Sure, it happens all the time," he commented idly, glancing back at his brother, who still seemed engrossed in the newspaper.
Somehow she wasn't surprised by that announcement. He definitely looked like the love 'em and leave 'em type. "What is your name?"
"Dean Winchester," he blurted out thoughtlessly, not looking at her. He grimaced when he realized what he'd said. If Sam found out, their cover would be blown, he thought, turning to look back at her. "Yours?"
"Chloe Sullivan," she responded, gazing at him intently. "How long are you in town?"
A lazy smile crossed his lips as he regarded her. "Depends." He suddenly hoped they'd run into some roadblocks: this Chloe Sullivan was worth sticking around for.
"Hmm." She leaned back against the door, still gazing at him. "Do you wanna come in?"
Dean couldn't hide the mild surprise he felt at her question. He had assumed she'd be ready and waiting to get rid of him at this point, especially since something in her voice told him something was seriously wrong with her. It was almost as if... Mentally shaking off that though, he grinned. "Am I gonna get regret it if I said hell yes?"
A slow smirk spread across her face. "Well, I really hope not." She turned and unlocked the door, stepping into the apartment.
Glancing once more at his brother, Dean realized Sam would be at the paper for awhile and waltzed through the door she held open for him. Once inside, he quickly perused the one-room apartment, large bed on one end with the living area on the other. For a second, he was torn between which way to turn, though he saw Chloe move past him into the kitchen. "So... you live here?" he asked casually.
"Only when I'm not at work," she said with a faint smirk as she moved over to the fridge, pulling it open and grabbing a beer from the door and setting it on the table in front of him.
Taking it, he popped it open and took a large swig. "Which is where?" he asked, turning his back to her to check out the books on her shelves.
"The Daily Planet," Chloe responded without hesitation.
"Really?"
"Yes, really." She lifted her chin a little, feeling slightly defensive.
Dean felt more than saw her irritation and turned to look at her. "That's great," he replied, taking another sip. "You could tell us all about Smallville."
Chloe felt her stomach tighten a little, wondering who this guy was and why he was really there. "Not sure what you wanna know."
"Oh, you know, the sights," he continued, wishing he had Sam's ability to put people at ease when asking leading questions. "Items of importance. The old. The weird, strange, and unusual."
Her eyes narrowed a little at his last words. "What makes you think there's anything weird, strange or unusual about Smallville?" she asked casually.
Clapping the bottle on the counter, Dean turned to look her in the eye. "Gee, I don't know. This is the Meteor Capital of the World, right? At least that's what the sign said on the way in." He took a step towards her, growing more irritated by the second. "That has to do something to a town."
Feeling uneasy, she stepped away from him without thinking about it, her gaze darting nervously toward the telephone. "So what are you? Some kind of paranormal investigator?" she shot back.
Damn, that hit too hard at home, he grimaced inwardly, never taking his eyes off hers. "That's one way of putting it, yeah." Turning, he made for the door. "I thought maybe you could help, but you're a little too freaked out by my presence to be useful." He felt like a heel, leaving without asking if she needed help, but the fact she kept gazing at him like he was a monster was all he needed to get out.
Her eyes darkened with anger as she darted toward the door, shutting it just as he started to open it. She glared at him, her breathing a little heavier than usual. "I've been accused of a lot of things before in my life, but not being useful? That's a new one."
"Hey, I was just asking you questions," he growled, the urge to get in her face and shake her strong. He balled his fists to keep from moving. "You're the one looking at me like I've grown a horn on my head."
"You know if this is your way of seducing a woman, you must be a virgin," she snapped.
He folded his arms, an amused gleam in his eyes. "So you're telling me you asked me here so I could seduce you while sober?" He would have bet had he picked her up properly while she'd been drunk, there wouldn't have been this level of argumentation.
Chloe's cheeks flushed. Is that what she'd wanted, expected? "Who asked you here? I'm not convinced you didn't follow me here from the motel this morning." She lifted her chin and looked at him defiantly.
So his instincts had been correct. Chloe Sullivan was being followed, and that was creeping her out. He frowned and took a step back, gazing at the worry she couldn't hide in her eyes. "Yeah, I'm a real stalker," he retorted, shaking his head. "Sam and I are on the prowl for pretty blondes. That's why he's scouring the newspapers downstairs looking for something that'll give us a lead."
She fell silent, staring at him intently as she struggled to decide whether or not he was there to kill her or if he really was just interested in the weirdness that was Smallville. Which of course, included her, whether he knew it or not. "All right. Then tell me why you are here. What are you looking for, specifically?" Her body was tense, her eyes wary.
Running a hand over his face, Dean groaned. "Sam thinks there's... something killing people here. Three deaths in the last week, all the victims crushed by something that isn't a machine." He cocked his head and gazed at her. "Know anything about that?"
Chloe's face paled a little, knowing exactly what he was talking about. It was the same case she and Clark had been investigating, and she'd narrowed her list of suspects down to one: an escapee of 33.1. The same escapee that had helped her and her mother escape the same facility. She slowly turned away from him, her heart thudding dully in her chest.
Having watched the various emotions cross her face, he knew she knew something. Maybe exactly the information he needed to get Sam and solve this case. "I'll take that as a yes," he replied, staring at her back, watching the way her hair fell against her neck in all the places he wanted to kiss.
She chewed on her thumbnail, trying to calm her frazzled nerves. "You could say that."
"So is there some way Sam and I can... help?" Dean kept his tone and face carefully neutral, especially since he had realized she might somehow be at the center of this situation.
Chloe's head dropped forward a little, her shoulders slumping as she swallowed hard. "No. This is a problem I have to deal with."
"You're kidding me, right?" Dean asked, forgetting to sound concerned for her well-being. Especially considering her response was... stupid.
Growing annoyed once more, she turned to face him. "Do I look like I'm kidding?" she snapped, her eyes dark and narrowed.
"No, you look like one of those damn independent women who drive me nuts on way too many levels!" With that, Dean grabbed the doorknob once more, hauling the door open with a violent jerk.
"Sorry. If you're looking for a damsel in distress, you should look elsewhere," she said evenly, folding her arms across her chest.
Turning to look at her in the doorway, he snapped, "Believe me, I have better things to do than save drunk women from themselves." Angry, hurt, and irritated, he left the apartment in a hurry, anxious to get to work and get out of this stupid one cow town.
Chloe flinched involuntarily at his words, watching him go before slamming the door shut behind him. She rested her back against it, hot tears stinging her eyes. She shut them tightly, forcing herself to take a deep breath. She wouldn't cry. Not now, and certainly not because of some guy she barely knew. She didn't have time for tears or romantic entanglements. Especially not with someone as infuriating as Dean Winchester.