Fic: Life Omen (1/1)
Life Omen (1/1)
By: Pen37
Beta:
clarksmuse (And I hope that she has a wonderful vacation. . . . While trapped with her mother and hubby in a car . . . on a loooong drive to Florida. . . No, really. I mean it. )
Rating: PG-13 (higher rating for Yaris abuse)
Fandoms: Smallville/Supernatural
Characters: Chloe, Dean, Sam, Clark
Pairing: Chloe/Dean
Prompt:Sunshine
Disclaimer: Not mine. No money, fun only. Don't try this at home, kids. Stay in school, don't do drugs.
Summary: Dean just can't seem to get that blonde reporter's name.
A/N:was written for the challenge at
schmoopfest. My Beta said that it was weird to see a schmoopy (and yet stil in character) Dean. he's not really schmoopy here, because Dean dosen't do Schmoop. He's just kind of quirky.
I'm also submitting this for one of my crossovers 100 prompts. This is prompt #76 Sun(shine)
He wasn't a big fan of My Girl,but he thought the first line fit Chloe Sullivan perfectly. The second Dean Winchester's eyes fell on her, the jukebox kicked on. At first, he hadn't thought anything of it. Later, he would realize that it was an omen.
It was ironic: he knew everything there was to know about death omens. But before that point, he had never heard of a life omen.
* * *
“I've got sunshine on a cloudy day,” he sang along as he watched the tiny blonde cross the floor of the funky little coffee house. She wasn't just beautiful - she was radiant. With golden hair and a smile that list up a room. It was like starin' into the freakin' sun.
In the chair next to him, Sam looked up with the what the heck is wrong with you expression. He quickly followed Dean's gaze across the room to the little blonde. Comprehension dawned on his face, followed by the why don't you get serious for a change, I don't believe you bitchface.
“Dean,” Sam said. “We're supposed to be --” Dean tuned Sam out at that point to watch the blonde. She looked their way with narrowed eyes. He smiled back at her, happy to have her attention. He was even happier when she walked over with that same intense look on her face.
To his surprise, she threw her arms around Sam from behind, made a fist in his gut, and squeezed. Sam coughed up a gummy bear. In that moment, Dean realized that not all that white noise had been bitching. Dean looked from Sam to the blonde.
“Heimleich,” she said casually. She turned, and linked up arms with this beanpole wrapped in flannel, and walked out the door.
“Dude, you were choking on a gummy bear?” he teased Sam.
“Shut up,” Sam said.
“I didn't even get her number,” Dean sighed.
* * *
Dean hated heights. Not as much as planes, but he figured that falling was falling. It didn't matter if you were in a freakin' ball of flaming metal or not. They would have to be hunting a demon with a kink for walking people off ledges.
He eased a little further out along the precipice, and hoped to Steven Tyler that the Daily Planet's masonry would hold his weight. Otherwise he was going to be flatter than breakfast in a short time.
“Who do you think you are, Batman?”
He opened his eyes to see the pretty blond from earlier leaning out the window to look at him.
“What are you doing here?” he asked her.
“I work here,” She rolled her eyes.
“No kidding?” he said. “What's your name?”
She tilted her head, and looked at him speculatively. “What's your name?”
“I asked first,” he said. His nerves made him a little more belligerent than usual.
“Yeah? Well my editor will kill me if you spatter all over the pavement and I haven't gotten an interview first.”
“I'd like to help you sweetheart,” Dean said. “But right now, I'm trying to stop someone from committing suicide.”
“Me too,” she said. Then she smiled that sunshine smile at him. While he was distracted by the blinding radiance of her smile, she leaned a little further out the window to talk to him. She must have slipped, because suddenly she was falling.
Dean leaned out to catch her, overbalanced, and fell as well.
As Dean fell fifteen stories, he couldn't believe that after surviving the worst that the demon could throw at them, he was going to die as sidewalk pizza. He again couldn't believe he hadn't gotten the blonde's name.
His eyes sought her out - she was probably the last thing he would ever see. As she fell, she had a camera out, and was taking photos.
The hell?
Before he had another thought, they hit an awning, bounced, and landed with a crash on a pair of movers who were hauling a couch. Just behind them, the bit of ledge that Dean had been sitting on punched it's way through the awning, and shattered on the sidewalk.
“Dude!” he looked at the wreckage of the awning, and realized that if the blonde hadn't fallen, he would be dead.
He turned to the blonde, who was flipping through the digital images on the back of her camera.
“No. No. No.” She paused, and Dean could see over her shoulder a photo of Superman saving the demon-possessed jumper. The black smoke in the background indicated that the demon had already vacated.
“Yes!” she bounced a little bit in excitement, and then ran into the building.
“Wait!” he called after her. But she was already vanishing through the revolving door. “I still don't have your name.”
* * *
This time, the demon had control of some poor accountant. By the time Sam and Dean caught up with him, he was marching into traffic. A blue Yaris that was bearing down on him hit the brakes. It fishtailed slightly, while the brakes squealed. It looked like it would barely not-stop -- until the rotor from a twin-engine Cessna suddenly fell from the sky and onto the hood of the car.
“Woah!” Dean jumped in surprise. “Where did that come from?”
The car shuddered, rocked, and stopped inches from the possessed accountant. To Dean's surprise, the blonde stepped from the car. She looked pale and shaken, but not really surprised.
“You!” Dean stopped and pointed at her.
“Dean!” Sam yelled as he chased the accountant into an abandoned building. “Little help here!”
“Oh man!” Dean bit his lip. He was torn between the little blonde around whom all the strange coincidences occurred, and helping his brother. In the end, Sammy and the exorcism won out.
He pointed tot he blonde. “Stay right there, sunshine!”
She looked from the ruined car, to him with a shrug. “Where would I go?”
* * *
by the time they'd finished with business, a tow truck was pulling away with the wrecked Yaris, and the blonde was nowhere in sight.
“Aw man!” he threw his hands up. “I still don't have her name.”
“All you had to do is ask,” her voice, honey-sweet and sunshine warm, caused him to turn. She stood behind him, arms crossed under a really nice rack, and a single eyebrow quirked in question.
“Hello, Sunshine.” He smiled at her. “We keep meeting this way.”
She smiled back. “Sunshine?”
He nodded to her. “You look like sunshine.”
She dipped her head in embarrassment at his frank interest. Dean was so caught up in her sunshine smile that he had completely forgotten about Sam - until the moron started coughing.
He shot his baby brother the I will spike your coffee with Ex-Lax look.
“What's your name, Sunshine?”
“Chloe Sullivan.”
“Chloe?” He let the name roll off his tongue, and found that he liked the way it felt to say it. “I'm Dean Winchester. You mind if I ask why this stuff keeps happening?”
“I took a chance on a guy with weird luck,” Chloe said. “He's gone now, but his luck's still hanging around.”
“Must be, if it keeps bringing us together, Sunshine. You need a ride somewhere?”
She looked from Dean to Sam, and shrugged her shoulders. “Why not? Your friend looks harmless.”
“What about me?”
“You look like another one in a million chance.”
He grinned at her. He was, after all, a gambling man. “I'll take those odds.”