SPN/SV Fic: Sin Wagon Series, Fic Two: Step Two: The Power of Observation (1/1)
Series: Sin Wagon
Title: Step Two: The Power of Observation (1/1)
Rated: R
Pairing: Dean/Chloe
Spoilers: Vague hints of spoilery sixth season Chimmy stuff. Mostly speculation.
Word Count: About 950
While he didn’t regret making a deal with a crossroads demon to save his brother’s life, Dean Winchester had no desire to readily make a deal with anyone else he didn’t know--even if that anyone was a very pretty blonde haired, green-eyed reporter.
The night before when he’d met Chloe Sullivan and she’d proposed the idea of him being her sex tutor--it had all seemed too good to be true. And by rule of thumb, things that seemed to good to be true usually were.
It was also too interesting an idea to dismiss completely--at least until he’d done a little digging.
He wanted to find out as much as he could about Chloe, just in case she was on the up-and-up and not trying to get him to drop his defenses in order to hurt him, or worse--hurt Sam.
He wasn’t as good as his brother with a computer, but he knew enough to know that any website you visited was recorded and could be called back up somehow. So instead of borrowing Sam’s laptop, he found himself at one of the libraries in Metropolis.
He really wasn’t as computer illiterate as Sam seemed to think. But pretending to be technologically stupid got him out of a lot of shit-research with a valid, believable excuse. He had no qualms letting Sam do the research stuff. He was good at it.
Dean, on the other hand, preferred the hunt. Give him an axe and point him in the direction of whatever needed killin’ and he was good to go.
He typed the name into the search field on Yahoo and raised his eyebrows as over three hundred hits came up.
In a little over an hour, he’d discovered she’d chased some damn bizarre stories--from shape-shifting high schoolers to ones who could teleport--all based on her working theory that the meteor rocks changed a person’s DNA and gave them abilities.
Huh. Rocks from outer space that gave people powers. That was weird, even for him. Either the girl was crazy or Smallville, Kansas, was one screwed up town.
By the time he’d read several other stories--written by people besides Chloe--who wrote articles on different times she’d been injured or nearly killed, Dean was pretty sure the best option would just be to drop an A Bomb on Smallville. Because anyone who tried to kill a hot chick like Chloe by throwing her out a window of a mansion, or burying her alive, or trying to blow her up at a safe house? Well, clearly the majority of the town was buckets of crazy.
When he was done scouring the internet, he’d come to the conclusion that not only was this chick hot and really smart, she was also as drawn to danger and trouble as he was.
And that was just damn fascinating.
* *
His next stop was to the Daily Planet. The urge to observe her in her natural habitat, to see what drove her and how she interacted with others was too good to pass up.
He snagged a press pass from one of the desks and blended in easily. No one asked him who he was or what he was doing as he casually strolled through the newsroom. It was a crowded, bustling place, but it didn’t take him long to locate her desk.
He took a seat across the room, popping a piece of candy corn into his mouth as he simply watched her.
Today she wore a navy blue skirt suit, a white blouse under the jacket. She looked hot in blue. He suspected she’d look hot in rags.
He watched as she worked in complete concentration, seemingly unaware of all the activity around her. She was intense about her job.
He liked that.
He could relate to that.
The only time she even looked up was when a tall, goofy looking guy with a bowtie walked by, chatting up another, slightly younger blonde in tightly fitted clothes. The guy didn’t even glance in Chloe’s direction.
The flash of hurt, of betrayal on her face didn’t escape Dean’s keen eyes and he shifted his gaze to the geek again, his eyebrows raised. Surely *that* wasn’t the guy that had caused Chloe to seek him out. Was he?
He was so…beneath her.
When he shifted his look back once more, he realized she wasn’t at her desk. It took him a second to comprehend that it was because she was standing right in front of him.
Dean smirked and slowly rose to his feet, holding her gaze.
“What are you doing here?” Before he had the chance to respond, she shook her head. “Nevermind. You’re fact-checking.”
He was impressed by her quick realization. “Gotta be sure who I’m dealing with.”
She shrugged. “I’d do the same thing.”
“I don’t doubt that.”
“So what have you decided so far?” Her voice was quiet, hesitant.
It suddenly occurred to him that she wasn’t trying to cause problems for him. She was a woman who needed a different kind of help. She needed someone to make her see her own sense of personal power; someone to put her back in control after some unworthy idiot broke her heart.
“I like what I see.” A flirtatious grin spread across his face and he leaned in, his lips close to her ear. “A whole lot.”
Chloe looked up at him, surprise clearly reflected in her green orbs.
“You got a place?”
She hesitated. “There’s a motel on Center Street.”
“What time you off work?”
“Six.”
“I’ll get a room.” He let his fingertips graze lightly over her arm, and smiled when she shivered.
“See you then.”
Grinning lazily, he reluctantly moved away from her and headed toward the exit.
He could hardly wait.
Title: Step Two: The Power of Observation (1/1)
Rated: R
Pairing: Dean/Chloe
Spoilers: Vague hints of spoilery sixth season Chimmy stuff. Mostly speculation.
Word Count: About 950
While he didn’t regret making a deal with a crossroads demon to save his brother’s life, Dean Winchester had no desire to readily make a deal with anyone else he didn’t know--even if that anyone was a very pretty blonde haired, green-eyed reporter.
The night before when he’d met Chloe Sullivan and she’d proposed the idea of him being her sex tutor--it had all seemed too good to be true. And by rule of thumb, things that seemed to good to be true usually were.
It was also too interesting an idea to dismiss completely--at least until he’d done a little digging.
He wanted to find out as much as he could about Chloe, just in case she was on the up-and-up and not trying to get him to drop his defenses in order to hurt him, or worse--hurt Sam.
He wasn’t as good as his brother with a computer, but he knew enough to know that any website you visited was recorded and could be called back up somehow. So instead of borrowing Sam’s laptop, he found himself at one of the libraries in Metropolis.
He really wasn’t as computer illiterate as Sam seemed to think. But pretending to be technologically stupid got him out of a lot of shit-research with a valid, believable excuse. He had no qualms letting Sam do the research stuff. He was good at it.
Dean, on the other hand, preferred the hunt. Give him an axe and point him in the direction of whatever needed killin’ and he was good to go.
He typed the name into the search field on Yahoo and raised his eyebrows as over three hundred hits came up.
In a little over an hour, he’d discovered she’d chased some damn bizarre stories--from shape-shifting high schoolers to ones who could teleport--all based on her working theory that the meteor rocks changed a person’s DNA and gave them abilities.
Huh. Rocks from outer space that gave people powers. That was weird, even for him. Either the girl was crazy or Smallville, Kansas, was one screwed up town.
By the time he’d read several other stories--written by people besides Chloe--who wrote articles on different times she’d been injured or nearly killed, Dean was pretty sure the best option would just be to drop an A Bomb on Smallville. Because anyone who tried to kill a hot chick like Chloe by throwing her out a window of a mansion, or burying her alive, or trying to blow her up at a safe house? Well, clearly the majority of the town was buckets of crazy.
When he was done scouring the internet, he’d come to the conclusion that not only was this chick hot and really smart, she was also as drawn to danger and trouble as he was.
And that was just damn fascinating.
* *
His next stop was to the Daily Planet. The urge to observe her in her natural habitat, to see what drove her and how she interacted with others was too good to pass up.
He snagged a press pass from one of the desks and blended in easily. No one asked him who he was or what he was doing as he casually strolled through the newsroom. It was a crowded, bustling place, but it didn’t take him long to locate her desk.
He took a seat across the room, popping a piece of candy corn into his mouth as he simply watched her.
Today she wore a navy blue skirt suit, a white blouse under the jacket. She looked hot in blue. He suspected she’d look hot in rags.
He watched as she worked in complete concentration, seemingly unaware of all the activity around her. She was intense about her job.
He liked that.
He could relate to that.
The only time she even looked up was when a tall, goofy looking guy with a bowtie walked by, chatting up another, slightly younger blonde in tightly fitted clothes. The guy didn’t even glance in Chloe’s direction.
The flash of hurt, of betrayal on her face didn’t escape Dean’s keen eyes and he shifted his gaze to the geek again, his eyebrows raised. Surely *that* wasn’t the guy that had caused Chloe to seek him out. Was he?
He was so…beneath her.
When he shifted his look back once more, he realized she wasn’t at her desk. It took him a second to comprehend that it was because she was standing right in front of him.
Dean smirked and slowly rose to his feet, holding her gaze.
“What are you doing here?” Before he had the chance to respond, she shook her head. “Nevermind. You’re fact-checking.”
He was impressed by her quick realization. “Gotta be sure who I’m dealing with.”
She shrugged. “I’d do the same thing.”
“I don’t doubt that.”
“So what have you decided so far?” Her voice was quiet, hesitant.
It suddenly occurred to him that she wasn’t trying to cause problems for him. She was a woman who needed a different kind of help. She needed someone to make her see her own sense of personal power; someone to put her back in control after some unworthy idiot broke her heart.
“I like what I see.” A flirtatious grin spread across his face and he leaned in, his lips close to her ear. “A whole lot.”
Chloe looked up at him, surprise clearly reflected in her green orbs.
“You got a place?”
She hesitated. “There’s a motel on Center Street.”
“What time you off work?”
“Six.”
“I’ll get a room.” He let his fingertips graze lightly over her arm, and smiled when she shivered.
“See you then.”
Grinning lazily, he reluctantly moved away from her and headed toward the exit.
He could hardly wait.