Fic: Meet Not-So-Cute
Fic: Meet Not-So-Cute
Author: Pen37
Summary: Chloe and Dean meet as teenagers. It dosen't go well.
Fandoms: Smallville/Supernatural
Characters: Dean Winchester, Chloe Sullivan
Pairing:None
Rating: g
Written for the spn_twisted crossover challenge battle. The prompt is Robots/Technology.
Submitted for the Crossovers100 challenge. Prompt #6 Hours. The table is here.
More than anything, he wanted to be out with dad. Elbows and knees in the dirt. Hands clutched around a crossbow. Leaves in his hair. Pluging some silver-tipped bolt into the heart of something fangy and furry that ate grandma for breakfast.
Instead, Dean Winchester was spending his Saturday sitting on a set of bleachers of some podunk town outside Tulsa with a copy of Hot Rod magazine, his favorite pair of sunglasses, a Snickers and a Mountain Dew, a walkman blaring Metallica and his brother Sammy yelling at him to quit goofing off and help out.
Dean put down the magazine, and glared down at his brother. Sam was the one who was always getting involved in extracurricular activities. Always going on about his academic career. Dean snorted. As if you got paid to go to school. And somehow, the sneaky little bitch managed to rope him into it.
High school robotics competition. To the teachers who let Sam draft a team of the geekiest dorks this side of dorkville, it was a harmless engineering competition that would look good to college recruiters. But when he’d told dad about it, it was Battle Bots. A way to learn how to build better weapons and traps under their teacher’s noses.
Still, Dad didn’t quite trust Sammy’s motives. So big brother Dean got signed up against his will to help.
If he was being completely honest, he kinda dug it. Maybe just a little. Getting to build the robot. Getting to blow shit up. But the chicks didn’t exactly flock to the robotics engineering team the way they did the footballers.
Case in point. Dean glanced over the rims of his sunglasses around the room. Not a chick in sight. All the pocket protectors must have scared them off. All except . . .
A short blonde passed him by as if he wasn’t even there. She walked down to the other end of the bleachers, pulled out a copy of The Daily Planet and sat there with her feet up on the seat in front of her.
Dean studied her face covertly. She was probably around Sammy’s age. Just barely this side of dating age. At most, he could make it to second base. But hell, it was a slow day in dorkville, and he had a couple hours to kill.
He smiled at her, and called out. "Hey gorgeous."
She ignored him, and turned the page of the paper.
Dean frowned, and tried again. "Hey Blondie!"
This time she looked over the edge of her page, and raised a single eyebrow at him.
"You bored or what?"
"That work with all the girls you pick up at robot club?" She rolled her eyes.
"I’m here babysitting my brother," Dean pointed out Sam, who was glaring up at him right at that moment. "How about you? What’s a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?"
"Other than enduring way too many Buffy Bot jokes?" She responded with a raised eyebrow. A simple move that screamed volumes. "You see that black robot out on the gym floor?"
Dean glanced out at a sleek black and red, vaguely humanoid shape that had the name Crow T. Robot stenciled in the back.
"Yeah?"
"I wrote the programming that automates it," she beamed proudly.
Dean rolled his eyes at that. It would figure that the only girl here was yet another ginormous dork. Although one with a pretty nice rack. Still - he turned back to his magazine. The smart ones were too much work.
***
Chloe eyed the guy sitting at the other end of the bench, before turning back to her paper. He was cute - in that Neanderthal sort of way. But in the end, the cute ones usually turned out to be psycho meteor freaks and Lana stalkers. And who needed that?
Author: Pen37
Summary: Chloe and Dean meet as teenagers. It dosen't go well.
Fandoms: Smallville/Supernatural
Characters: Dean Winchester, Chloe Sullivan
Pairing:None
Rating: g
Written for the spn_twisted crossover challenge battle. The prompt is Robots/Technology.
Submitted for the Crossovers100 challenge. Prompt #6 Hours. The table is here.
More than anything, he wanted to be out with dad. Elbows and knees in the dirt. Hands clutched around a crossbow. Leaves in his hair. Pluging some silver-tipped bolt into the heart of something fangy and furry that ate grandma for breakfast.
Instead, Dean Winchester was spending his Saturday sitting on a set of bleachers of some podunk town outside Tulsa with a copy of Hot Rod magazine, his favorite pair of sunglasses, a Snickers and a Mountain Dew, a walkman blaring Metallica and his brother Sammy yelling at him to quit goofing off and help out.
Dean put down the magazine, and glared down at his brother. Sam was the one who was always getting involved in extracurricular activities. Always going on about his academic career. Dean snorted. As if you got paid to go to school. And somehow, the sneaky little bitch managed to rope him into it.
High school robotics competition. To the teachers who let Sam draft a team of the geekiest dorks this side of dorkville, it was a harmless engineering competition that would look good to college recruiters. But when he’d told dad about it, it was Battle Bots. A way to learn how to build better weapons and traps under their teacher’s noses.
Still, Dad didn’t quite trust Sammy’s motives. So big brother Dean got signed up against his will to help.
If he was being completely honest, he kinda dug it. Maybe just a little. Getting to build the robot. Getting to blow shit up. But the chicks didn’t exactly flock to the robotics engineering team the way they did the footballers.
Case in point. Dean glanced over the rims of his sunglasses around the room. Not a chick in sight. All the pocket protectors must have scared them off. All except . . .
A short blonde passed him by as if he wasn’t even there. She walked down to the other end of the bleachers, pulled out a copy of The Daily Planet and sat there with her feet up on the seat in front of her.
Dean studied her face covertly. She was probably around Sammy’s age. Just barely this side of dating age. At most, he could make it to second base. But hell, it was a slow day in dorkville, and he had a couple hours to kill.
He smiled at her, and called out. "Hey gorgeous."
She ignored him, and turned the page of the paper.
Dean frowned, and tried again. "Hey Blondie!"
This time she looked over the edge of her page, and raised a single eyebrow at him.
"You bored or what?"
"That work with all the girls you pick up at robot club?" She rolled her eyes.
"I’m here babysitting my brother," Dean pointed out Sam, who was glaring up at him right at that moment. "How about you? What’s a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?"
"Other than enduring way too many Buffy Bot jokes?" She responded with a raised eyebrow. A simple move that screamed volumes. "You see that black robot out on the gym floor?"
Dean glanced out at a sleek black and red, vaguely humanoid shape that had the name Crow T. Robot stenciled in the back.
"Yeah?"
"I wrote the programming that automates it," she beamed proudly.
Dean rolled his eyes at that. It would figure that the only girl here was yet another ginormous dork. Although one with a pretty nice rack. Still - he turned back to his magazine. The smart ones were too much work.
***
Chloe eyed the guy sitting at the other end of the bench, before turning back to her paper. He was cute - in that Neanderthal sort of way. But in the end, the cute ones usually turned out to be psycho meteor freaks and Lana stalkers. And who needed that?