lonely road
Title: lonely road
Author: Mary (stillxmyxheart)
Beta: Lindsay (nylana), Rebekah (bekkis)
Rating: G
Genre: Gen
Word Count: 1,806
Characters: Rose Tyler, Dean Winchester (Doctor Who/Supernatural crossover)
Disclaimer: Anything you recognize? Ain't mine.
Summary: They're both searching for something.
The smell of burnt rubber drifts by the window and the sound of screeching tires still echoes in Dean's ears as he stares out the windshield, frowning at the now empty road in front of him.
"What the hell?" he mutters as he cuts the engine and stuffs the keys into his pocket. He pulls his gun from the inside of his coat and steps out of the car, staring cautiously around, gun held low in front of him.
He steps slowly around the front of the Impala and sees movement in the ditch beside the road, followed by some muttered swearing. He raises the gun a little, still staring all around as he approaches the ditch.
The figure stands and he raises his eyebrows when he notices the slim body dressed in dark pants and a dark jacket, bright blue shirt like a beacon in the darkness. The only thing to rival it is her blonde hair, swaying around her shoulders as she brushes herself off, muttering some more before she looks up at him.
"Oh, that's nice," she says, nodding her head at the gun in his hands. "You almost run me over and then you point a gun at me."
His eyebrows creep up a bit more when he hears her accent but he keeps the gun trained on her.
"Who are you?" he asks.
She runs her fingers through her hair and then props her hands on her hips. "A girl in a ditch who you tried to run over."
She steps out of the ditch and onto the pavement and Dean tightens his grip on the gun. She ignores him, staring down the road in one direction and then the other; Dean narrows his eyes, watching closely as she does this and slipping a hand to his pocket.
She sweeps her gaze over him again and for just a second her eyes seem to shine gold. He flings the holy water at her and she gasps, a surprised cry escaping her lips. No smoke, but that doesn't necessarily mean she's not dangerous. He fumbles a shotgun shell from the pocket of his jeans and pulls it apart, throwing the rock salt contained within. No reaction again, except for another surprised exclamation.
"Oi! Stop throwing stuff at me!" she says, raising the bottom of her shirt to wipe her face, offering him a glimpse of her smooth stomach. She shakes the salt from her hair and points a finger at him when she looks back and sees the silver dagger that's replaced the gun.
"I don't know what you're planning to do with that, but you can just put it away."
"If you're human, it won't hurt too much," he says and she frowns at him.
"'Course I'm human, what - hey!" she cries as he darts forward, slashing the dagger across the back of her hand.
She steps right up to him and her palm stings the side of his face. He grabs her wrist and holds it tightly, slipping the dagger back into his pocket and pulling Ruby's knife from the waist of his pants.
He yanks her to him and he notices the tiny flicker of fear in her eyes as he presses the tip of the knife against her neck. There's something different about her fear, he realizes. It's not the empty fear of a demon who doesn't think they're really going to die, but the real fear of a girl who just happened to turn up in the middle of nowhere one night and who's now being threatened by a strange man with a knife.
He lets go of her and takes a step back, putting the knife away. She moves away from him, eyeing him warily as she rubs her wrist.
"You're not an angel, are you?" he asks almost as an afterthought, narrowing his eyes a little.
She stares at him a bit incredulously, looking as though she wants to laugh. She probably thinks it's a pick-up line but he's not smiling and she shakes her head.
"No. I'm not an angel."
He nods and she looks at him curiously, still shaking salt from her hair.
"Who did you think I was?" she asks.
"A demon," he replies matter-of-factly.
"A demon," she repeats, her brow creasing a little.
"Or a ghost," he adds, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the hood of the Impala.
"Or an angel," she says, the corner of her mouth rising.
He laughs softly and nods as she moves to stand next to him. Her arm brushes his as she joins him in leaning against the car and he looks down at her.
"So who are you?"
She turns her eyes toward the sky and shrugs her shoulders. Her mouth opens like she wants to speak and then it closes again and she says nothing. Dean sighs and rolls his eyes.
"Okay, then, tell me what you're doing out here in the middle of Oklahoma at two in the morning."
"Oklahoma?" she says, glancing at him. "Wow. Have to adjust the coordinates next time."
He frowns down at her but she doesn't elaborate, instead turning his question back at him.
"I'm working," he replies and she nods.
"So am I."
"You a hunter?" he asks, his interest suddenly piqued.
"A hunter?" She wrinkles her nose distastefully. "Who hunts at two in the morning?"
"Good question," he mutters.
They fall silent a moment, her eyes back on the sky and his own casting surreptitious glances at her face, admiring her profile, following the curve of her neck down to her chest.
She shifts and he looks quickly away, clearing his throat. Her lips curve into a smirk as she looks up at him and he avoids her gaze.
"So where are you from?" he asks, not sure why he's so interested, why he hasn't just gotten back into the car and driven away. She seems entirely unconcerned about being on a random stretch of road in the middle of nowhere in the small hours of the morning, but he can't seem to leave her.
"Mm," she murmurs absently, "a long way away."
"Can't be that far," he says, watching as she turns her eyes to the sky once more.
"Farther than you think."
He doesn't respond, unsure of what to say, and they fall silent.
"What's your name?" she asks quietly after a minute and he looks down at her, his green eyes meeting her brown ones. He thinks her eyes shine gold for just a moment, like they seemed to before, and then she blinks and it's gone and he decides that he probably just imagined it.
"Dean," he replies. "My name's Dean."
"Dean," she repeats, smiling, and he finds that he likes the way his name sounds on her lips.
"Do you ever look up at the stars, Dean?" she continues and her eyes turn once more back to the sky, almost as if she just can't help herself.
"Don't really have the time. Or a reason to."
He tries to look up at the sky with her but finds his gaze continually drawn to her face, just like hers is drawn to the stars.
"Would you believe me if I told you I've been up there? Among the stars?" She casts a sidelong glance at him and seems unable to keep herself from grinning.
He shakes his head, sharing her grin. "You sure you're not an angel?"
She laughs and her shoulder brushes against his arm again. "Positive."
She looks down after a moment and sighs. "I'm looking for someone." She pauses and then adds softly, "Feels like I've been searching forever."
"I know how that is," he murmurs and then shakes his head, a short, humorless laugh escaping his lips. "Been looking for people all my life."
She looks at him, her gaze intense. "Have you ever found any of them?"
He glances at her, surprised by the question. He thinks about it and realizes that of all the people he's searched for in his life, his dad, Sam, Azazel, Castiel, and countless others, he has eventually found all of them.
"Yeah," he replies, nodding, and her expression softens as she looks at him.
Before either of them can say anything else, there's a sudden flash of white light from behind the rise to their left and she straightens.
"That's me," she says and starts toward the ridge.
"You're leaving?" he says, surprised to find himself wishing she'd stay longer.
She turns and considers him a moment before stepping close to him. She grips the front of his jacket and stands on her toes, touching her lips lightly to his. His hands rise, ghosting over the curve of her hips, his fingers hooking through her belt loops and pulling her to him just a little bit.
She breaks the kiss after a moment but doesn't move away, still close enough that he can feel her breath on his lips, warm and light. She smells like vanilla and sugar and something else he can't quite place, and it reminds him strangely of home. Or what he would imagine home to smell like, comforting and familiar.
She gives a breathy sigh and smiles gently. "You're not what I'm looking for," she says softly as she steps back, smoothing the front of his coat.
He nods, knowing that she needs to leave and that he doesn't have the time to stay here any longer.
"I hope you find it," he says.
She smiles again and raises her hand in a wave before she starts up the rise.
"Hey!" he calls when she reaches the top and she looks back at him. "What's your name?"
She looks at him a moment, contemplating him. There's another white flash and it illuminates her from behind; she seems to glow for a second and he's almost certain his eyes are playing tricks on him when he thinks he sees the shadow of wings extending from her back.
"Rose," she finally replies and he can see her smile from where he stands. "My name's Rose."
She disappears over the ridge; there's one more flash of light and then she's gone. He doesn't see her go but he can feel it in the silence that settles once again in the darkness.
He stares at the ridge for a moment before turning back to the car, digging the keys from his pocket.
"Definitely an angel," he mutters as he settles behind the wheel and starts the engine. "A smokin' hot angel," he adds, grinning despite himself.
He places a hand on the gear shift and the smile fades as his eyes drift back over to the rise for just a minute before he shakes his head, dropping the car into gear and continuing down the road.
Author: Mary (stillxmyxheart)
Beta: Lindsay (nylana), Rebekah (bekkis)
Rating: G
Genre: Gen
Word Count: 1,806
Characters: Rose Tyler, Dean Winchester (Doctor Who/Supernatural crossover)
Disclaimer: Anything you recognize? Ain't mine.
Summary: They're both searching for something.
The smell of burnt rubber drifts by the window and the sound of screeching tires still echoes in Dean's ears as he stares out the windshield, frowning at the now empty road in front of him.
"What the hell?" he mutters as he cuts the engine and stuffs the keys into his pocket. He pulls his gun from the inside of his coat and steps out of the car, staring cautiously around, gun held low in front of him.
He steps slowly around the front of the Impala and sees movement in the ditch beside the road, followed by some muttered swearing. He raises the gun a little, still staring all around as he approaches the ditch.
The figure stands and he raises his eyebrows when he notices the slim body dressed in dark pants and a dark jacket, bright blue shirt like a beacon in the darkness. The only thing to rival it is her blonde hair, swaying around her shoulders as she brushes herself off, muttering some more before she looks up at him.
"Oh, that's nice," she says, nodding her head at the gun in his hands. "You almost run me over and then you point a gun at me."
His eyebrows creep up a bit more when he hears her accent but he keeps the gun trained on her.
"Who are you?" he asks.
She runs her fingers through her hair and then props her hands on her hips. "A girl in a ditch who you tried to run over."
She steps out of the ditch and onto the pavement and Dean tightens his grip on the gun. She ignores him, staring down the road in one direction and then the other; Dean narrows his eyes, watching closely as she does this and slipping a hand to his pocket.
She sweeps her gaze over him again and for just a second her eyes seem to shine gold. He flings the holy water at her and she gasps, a surprised cry escaping her lips. No smoke, but that doesn't necessarily mean she's not dangerous. He fumbles a shotgun shell from the pocket of his jeans and pulls it apart, throwing the rock salt contained within. No reaction again, except for another surprised exclamation.
"Oi! Stop throwing stuff at me!" she says, raising the bottom of her shirt to wipe her face, offering him a glimpse of her smooth stomach. She shakes the salt from her hair and points a finger at him when she looks back and sees the silver dagger that's replaced the gun.
"I don't know what you're planning to do with that, but you can just put it away."
"If you're human, it won't hurt too much," he says and she frowns at him.
"'Course I'm human, what - hey!" she cries as he darts forward, slashing the dagger across the back of her hand.
She steps right up to him and her palm stings the side of his face. He grabs her wrist and holds it tightly, slipping the dagger back into his pocket and pulling Ruby's knife from the waist of his pants.
He yanks her to him and he notices the tiny flicker of fear in her eyes as he presses the tip of the knife against her neck. There's something different about her fear, he realizes. It's not the empty fear of a demon who doesn't think they're really going to die, but the real fear of a girl who just happened to turn up in the middle of nowhere one night and who's now being threatened by a strange man with a knife.
He lets go of her and takes a step back, putting the knife away. She moves away from him, eyeing him warily as she rubs her wrist.
"You're not an angel, are you?" he asks almost as an afterthought, narrowing his eyes a little.
She stares at him a bit incredulously, looking as though she wants to laugh. She probably thinks it's a pick-up line but he's not smiling and she shakes her head.
"No. I'm not an angel."
He nods and she looks at him curiously, still shaking salt from her hair.
"Who did you think I was?" she asks.
"A demon," he replies matter-of-factly.
"A demon," she repeats, her brow creasing a little.
"Or a ghost," he adds, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the hood of the Impala.
"Or an angel," she says, the corner of her mouth rising.
He laughs softly and nods as she moves to stand next to him. Her arm brushes his as she joins him in leaning against the car and he looks down at her.
"So who are you?"
She turns her eyes toward the sky and shrugs her shoulders. Her mouth opens like she wants to speak and then it closes again and she says nothing. Dean sighs and rolls his eyes.
"Okay, then, tell me what you're doing out here in the middle of Oklahoma at two in the morning."
"Oklahoma?" she says, glancing at him. "Wow. Have to adjust the coordinates next time."
He frowns down at her but she doesn't elaborate, instead turning his question back at him.
"I'm working," he replies and she nods.
"So am I."
"You a hunter?" he asks, his interest suddenly piqued.
"A hunter?" She wrinkles her nose distastefully. "Who hunts at two in the morning?"
"Good question," he mutters.
They fall silent a moment, her eyes back on the sky and his own casting surreptitious glances at her face, admiring her profile, following the curve of her neck down to her chest.
She shifts and he looks quickly away, clearing his throat. Her lips curve into a smirk as she looks up at him and he avoids her gaze.
"So where are you from?" he asks, not sure why he's so interested, why he hasn't just gotten back into the car and driven away. She seems entirely unconcerned about being on a random stretch of road in the middle of nowhere in the small hours of the morning, but he can't seem to leave her.
"Mm," she murmurs absently, "a long way away."
"Can't be that far," he says, watching as she turns her eyes to the sky once more.
"Farther than you think."
He doesn't respond, unsure of what to say, and they fall silent.
"What's your name?" she asks quietly after a minute and he looks down at her, his green eyes meeting her brown ones. He thinks her eyes shine gold for just a moment, like they seemed to before, and then she blinks and it's gone and he decides that he probably just imagined it.
"Dean," he replies. "My name's Dean."
"Dean," she repeats, smiling, and he finds that he likes the way his name sounds on her lips.
"Do you ever look up at the stars, Dean?" she continues and her eyes turn once more back to the sky, almost as if she just can't help herself.
"Don't really have the time. Or a reason to."
He tries to look up at the sky with her but finds his gaze continually drawn to her face, just like hers is drawn to the stars.
"Would you believe me if I told you I've been up there? Among the stars?" She casts a sidelong glance at him and seems unable to keep herself from grinning.
He shakes his head, sharing her grin. "You sure you're not an angel?"
She laughs and her shoulder brushes against his arm again. "Positive."
She looks down after a moment and sighs. "I'm looking for someone." She pauses and then adds softly, "Feels like I've been searching forever."
"I know how that is," he murmurs and then shakes his head, a short, humorless laugh escaping his lips. "Been looking for people all my life."
She looks at him, her gaze intense. "Have you ever found any of them?"
He glances at her, surprised by the question. He thinks about it and realizes that of all the people he's searched for in his life, his dad, Sam, Azazel, Castiel, and countless others, he has eventually found all of them.
"Yeah," he replies, nodding, and her expression softens as she looks at him.
Before either of them can say anything else, there's a sudden flash of white light from behind the rise to their left and she straightens.
"That's me," she says and starts toward the ridge.
"You're leaving?" he says, surprised to find himself wishing she'd stay longer.
She turns and considers him a moment before stepping close to him. She grips the front of his jacket and stands on her toes, touching her lips lightly to his. His hands rise, ghosting over the curve of her hips, his fingers hooking through her belt loops and pulling her to him just a little bit.
She breaks the kiss after a moment but doesn't move away, still close enough that he can feel her breath on his lips, warm and light. She smells like vanilla and sugar and something else he can't quite place, and it reminds him strangely of home. Or what he would imagine home to smell like, comforting and familiar.
She gives a breathy sigh and smiles gently. "You're not what I'm looking for," she says softly as she steps back, smoothing the front of his coat.
He nods, knowing that she needs to leave and that he doesn't have the time to stay here any longer.
"I hope you find it," he says.
She smiles again and raises her hand in a wave before she starts up the rise.
"Hey!" he calls when she reaches the top and she looks back at him. "What's your name?"
She looks at him a moment, contemplating him. There's another white flash and it illuminates her from behind; she seems to glow for a second and he's almost certain his eyes are playing tricks on him when he thinks he sees the shadow of wings extending from her back.
"Rose," she finally replies and he can see her smile from where he stands. "My name's Rose."
She disappears over the ridge; there's one more flash of light and then she's gone. He doesn't see her go but he can feel it in the silence that settles once again in the darkness.
He stares at the ridge for a moment before turning back to the car, digging the keys from his pocket.
"Definitely an angel," he mutters as he settles behind the wheel and starts the engine. "A smokin' hot angel," he adds, grinning despite himself.
He places a hand on the gear shift and the smile fades as his eyes drift back over to the rise for just a minute before he shakes his head, dropping the car into gear and continuing down the road.