Fic: Send in the Clowns (1/1)
Fic: Send in the Clowns (1/1)
Summary: Domestic chaos reigns supreme in the Sullivan-Winchester household on a normal day. Adding a sick infant to the mix is asking for trouble
Author: pen37
Fandoms: Supernatural/Smallville
Pairing:Chloe/Dean
Rating: G
Beta:Clarksmuse
Written for the Crossovers100 challenge. Prompt #16 purple The table is here.
“The doctors say that Chance has thrush,” Chloe handed her squirming infant to Lois with a sigh of relief.
Chance was normally a happy baby. But now that Dean was back to hunting part-time, and Chloe and Chance were spending those nights on the Kent farm rather than stay alone at the apartment over the garage - he'd been fussy. As if he was picking up on his mother's unease.
“What, like the bird? You saying my baby cousin has been sucking on birds?”
“Not like a bird,” she waved Lois off. “More like a fungus.”
“A fungus? Has the kid been sucking on 'shrooms? Isn't he a little young for drug counseling.”
“Funny,” Chloe rolled her eyes. “The doctor gave me a medicine to paint his mouth with. He said that it would temporarily dye the inside of his mouth purple.”
“This is why it's good to have nice, strong half-alien kids,” Lois said. “They don't ever get sick.”
“Yeah, yeah. Kara's an angel,” Chloe rolled her eyes. “Didn't your little angel relocate her preschool teacher's VW inside her classroom?”
Lois rolled her eyes. “No comment.”
***
The sounds of chaos reigned across the Kent family kitchen when Dean stepped through the door. He surveyed the room warily - hoping to find his wife and kid, and slip away before they could get trapped in another one of Lois' experimental dinners.
As if reading his mind, Chloe raced down the stairs. She was juggling their kid, her laptop, suitcase, diaper bag, boppy pillow and toys while still maintaining forward motion.
Dean shook his head in wonder. If they could bottle that kind of skill and give it to hunters, there would be a lot fewer demons in the world.
“Here,” Chloe passed the baby to him. “Meatloaf surprise.”
He didn't need any more warning. Dean balanced the kid in one arm, took the diaper bag with the other, and retreated out the door.
He had just turned the kid to get a better grip, when he got a good look at Chance's face.
“What the he---eeeck happened?” He hadn't yet got the hang of cleaning up his language. But he was getting better. There was a bright purple ring around Chance's mouth. He looked like a demented baby clown.
Chloe sighed. “It's medicine.”
“Will it come off?”
“In a few days.”
“Awsome,” Dean shook his head. He glanced back at the Impala where Sam was sitting, and grinned lazily. “Hey little man,” he cooed to the baby. “Let's go show Uncle Sammy how much we missed him.”
* * *
Chloe had the trunk of the Impala open, and was trying to figure out how to wedge a baby swing in between two shotguns, an axe, and three bags of rock salt when she heard Sam yell from the front of the car.
“Holy friggin' Helena Handbasket! Dean! He looks like a clown!”
Chloe rolled her eyes and shook her head. With Winchesters, it was always something.
Summary: Domestic chaos reigns supreme in the Sullivan-Winchester household on a normal day. Adding a sick infant to the mix is asking for trouble
Author: pen37
Fandoms: Supernatural/Smallville
Pairing:Chloe/Dean
Rating: G
Beta:Clarksmuse
Written for the Crossovers100 challenge. Prompt #16 purple The table is here.
“The doctors say that Chance has thrush,” Chloe handed her squirming infant to Lois with a sigh of relief.
Chance was normally a happy baby. But now that Dean was back to hunting part-time, and Chloe and Chance were spending those nights on the Kent farm rather than stay alone at the apartment over the garage - he'd been fussy. As if he was picking up on his mother's unease.
“What, like the bird? You saying my baby cousin has been sucking on birds?”
“Not like a bird,” she waved Lois off. “More like a fungus.”
“A fungus? Has the kid been sucking on 'shrooms? Isn't he a little young for drug counseling.”
“Funny,” Chloe rolled her eyes. “The doctor gave me a medicine to paint his mouth with. He said that it would temporarily dye the inside of his mouth purple.”
“This is why it's good to have nice, strong half-alien kids,” Lois said. “They don't ever get sick.”
“Yeah, yeah. Kara's an angel,” Chloe rolled her eyes. “Didn't your little angel relocate her preschool teacher's VW inside her classroom?”
Lois rolled her eyes. “No comment.”
***
The sounds of chaos reigned across the Kent family kitchen when Dean stepped through the door. He surveyed the room warily - hoping to find his wife and kid, and slip away before they could get trapped in another one of Lois' experimental dinners.
As if reading his mind, Chloe raced down the stairs. She was juggling their kid, her laptop, suitcase, diaper bag, boppy pillow and toys while still maintaining forward motion.
Dean shook his head in wonder. If they could bottle that kind of skill and give it to hunters, there would be a lot fewer demons in the world.
“Here,” Chloe passed the baby to him. “Meatloaf surprise.”
He didn't need any more warning. Dean balanced the kid in one arm, took the diaper bag with the other, and retreated out the door.
He had just turned the kid to get a better grip, when he got a good look at Chance's face.
“What the he---eeeck happened?” He hadn't yet got the hang of cleaning up his language. But he was getting better. There was a bright purple ring around Chance's mouth. He looked like a demented baby clown.
Chloe sighed. “It's medicine.”
“Will it come off?”
“In a few days.”
“Awsome,” Dean shook his head. He glanced back at the Impala where Sam was sitting, and grinned lazily. “Hey little man,” he cooed to the baby. “Let's go show Uncle Sammy how much we missed him.”
* * *
Chloe had the trunk of the Impala open, and was trying to figure out how to wedge a baby swing in between two shotguns, an axe, and three bags of rock salt when she heard Sam yell from the front of the car.
“Holy friggin' Helena Handbasket! Dean! He looks like a clown!”
Chloe rolled her eyes and shook her head. With Winchesters, it was always something.