Too hot to handle, too cold to hold
Title: Too hot to handle, too cold to hold
Author: akat
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Angel through Rm w/a Vu; none for Supernatural
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon owns "Buffy the Vampire Slayer", “Angel: the Series”, and related characters; Eric Kripke owns “Supernatural” and related characters.
Summary: Sam and Dean met their match long before Lucifer came along. Who knew Cordelia Chase would be such a force to be reckoned with?
Word Count: 1,565
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“We’re here,” Dean announced as he put the rental car in park.
He didn’t make a move to get out, though; he just stared straight ahead, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly.
Sam rolled his eyes, knowing why his brother was hesitating.
“Dean, if you’re worried about Dad finding out, why did you drag me out on this hunt in the first place?” he asked, his voice full of exasperation. “I have midterms to study for.”
With a scowl, Dean turned to face him. “Okay, one, I’m not worried, because he’s not gonna find out. Two, it’s his own damn fault. What the hell did he expect us to do when he left us behind in LA for a few weeks while he went up north on a hunt? Take up knitting?” he scoffed.
“Yeah, that or go to school,” Sam retorted. “One of us, anyway.”
It was a little bit of a low blow, considering Dean had dropped out long ago partly by choice and partly by necessity, but he couldn’t help it. He really wanted to keep his GPA up for college applications.
Dean didn’t hear him, though; in fact, he just continued on as if Sam hadn’t said anything at all.
“And three, this isn’t even a real hunt anyway. We’re just gathering some intel, maybe test out the new EMF, and that’s it,” he reasoned. “The last suicide was what? Five years ago?”
Sam could’ve pointed out that the latest tenant claimed the place was haunted in a tabloid story just a few days ago, which is how they found out about it in the first place, but he didn’t. He knew better. Dean was obviously buying into his own hype, so it would just be easier to go along with him and get it over with so he could go home and study.
Taking his brother’s silence for agreement, Dean flashed him a quick grin and got out of the car, grabbing his gear as he went.
Stifling a sigh, Sam followed suit.
They both took a moment to check out the row of apartments. It had ‘California’ written all over it, from the mission-style architecture to the perfectly manicured lawns on the ground and the blue sky up above.
“So that’s it, huh?” Dean mused as he zeroed in on one door in particular.
Sam looked down at his notes. “Yeah, that’s the one. Three tenants have committed suicide there, one in ’59, another in ’65, and the last one in ’94. Nothing suspicious about any of them,” he reported.
“Until last week when Mr. Zacharian sold his story and got the hell out of Dodge... which means the place will be empty,” Dean finished. He gave his brother another grin. “C’mon, Sammy, let’s go.”
They quickly made their way to the front door, pulling out some supplies as soon as they reached the overhang. Then, with an EMF in one hand, Sam grabbed the door handle with the other. Not too surprisingly, it was locked. He immediately looked to Dean, who already had the lockpicking tools out and ready for action.
Before he could do anything, however, the door started to open as a female voice rang out.
“Doyle, I told you, I’m fine-”
Dean’s eyes lit up when the door swung all the way open, revealing a super hot brunette. “Yes, you are,” he smirked.
The girl returned his look and then some, her eyes raking over his body before smiling appreciatively at him. “Can I help you?” she coyly asked.
Dean grinned. “I hope so,” he began to say, but he was interrupted by a sharp jab to the ribs.
He turned to his brother to scowl, but he stopped when he saw Sam subtly look down toward the EMF.
The damned thing was going ape shit.
Sam cleared his throat as he hid the EMF behind his back. “Hi, Management sent us down ... we’re their after-school help,” he added, quickly improvising when he saw the doubtful look on her face. “Your neighbor complained about bugs, so we’re here to make sure they haven’t spread to your place.”
It was like he had just informed her that they were carriers of the plague.
She immediately stepped away from the door, obviously trying to put as much distance between them as possible.
“Do whatever it takes,” she ordered sternly, looking from Dean to Sam and back again.
Her eyes lingered on Dean for a split second, a look of pity and regret on her face, before she turned and walked over to her couch. Then she plopped herself down and began thumbing through some fashion magazine, clearly dismissing them as unimportant.
Dean stared at her, completely speechless and even more offended; Sam, on the other hand, began choking with laughter. They both snapped to attention, however, when the EMF starting beeping like crazy again.
It was time to get to work. And to get her the hell out of here.
By silent agreement, they each picked a random direction and began walking around the apartment, checking the place out as they pretended to look for bugs. Dean made a beeline for the kitchen, where he saw some mail sitting on the table. He immediately snuck a peek, reading the name off the address. ‘Cordelia Chase’.
“So, Miss Chase,” he said loudly as he tapped on a wall. “You got a real problem here. Termites. Everywhere. You’ve got vacate the property immediately so we can fumigate.”
He suppressed his grin as she jumped off the couch as if there was a fire under her. Barely. He definitely had a smug look on his face when Cordelia stormed right over to him, eyes blazing with anger.
“What?” she exclaimed. “No way! I just got this place back.”
She was smoking hot, all riled up and waving her arms around like a crazy woman. Dean couldn’t resist working her up a little more, especially since he was still smarting from the brush off when she found out he was the hired help.
Folding his arms across his chest, he gave her an indifferent look. “Sorry, lady, but rules are rules,” he retorted.
She got right in his face at this. “Oh yeah? Well, you’ll have to drag me out.”
“Not a problem,” Dean snorted.
“Dean,” Sam protested nervously as he made his way over toward the two, trying to rein in his brother’s stubbornness.
Neither Cordelia nor Dean heard him, though; they were too busy trying to stare each other down.
Then it happened. Cordelia looked away first, her eyes flickering toward the space in between Sam and Dean.
Dean smirked triumphantly. Damn straight. Before he could crow in victory, however, she did the strangest thing.
“Dennis, no!” she shouted.
Dean and Sam exchanged glances. Dennis? Who the hell was that?
At that moment, they both caught some movement out of the corner of their eyes, and Dean only just managed to duck in time to avoid getting clocked by a vase that was hurtling toward his head.
No sooner had it smashed against the wall than a plate rose in the air. It didn’t attack them, though; it just hung there, waiting.
Dean turned to Cordelia, not willing to waste any more time with this shit. “Look, do you want to die, princess? Because that right there? That’s a ghost, a vengeful spirit that will not rest until it murders that sweet little ass of yours,” he bit out.
Yeah, it was a bit overboard, but he wanted to get his point across.
To both Dean and Sam’s surprise, Cordelia started laughing. A lot. She was practically rolling on the ground.
Dean looked at Sam, a bit miffed. “Was that funny?”
Cordelia wiped her eyes. “You guys are way too late,” she announced, the laughter still in her voice. “I banished Mommy Dearest days ago.”
“But- but there’s still a ghost here!” Sam sputtered, holding up his EMF and gesturing to the plate that was still hanging mid-air.
Cordelia rolled her eyes. “Yeah? That’s Dennis. He’s my roommate,” she calmly explained. Then she put her hands on her hips. “Are you guys prejudice or something? There are such things as good ghosts, you know.”
Dean and Sam eyed Cordelia suspiciously, wondering if she was evil or under a spell or something. It just wasn’t natural.
As if on cue, the plate began floating toward them menacingly.
Cordelia waved her hand at it. “No, Dennis,” she said sharply. “Don’t give them an excuse to go all Ghostbusters on you. Just please, see them out.”
The plate immediately lowered back onto the counter. Then, before Sam and Dean knew what was happening, they found themselves being forcibly ushered out of the apartment. It didn’t stop until their feet hit the front mat.
Stunned, Sam and Dean turned back toward the apartment, only to see Cordelia standing in the open doorway, smirking at them.
“I don’t know who you are or what your deal is, but if you want to go all postal on the supernatural, go to Sunnydale,” she suggested with fake sweetness. Then her expression hardened. “Just stay the hell away from me!”
And with that, she slammed the door in their faces.
Sam and Dean looked at each other in confusion.
“Did that just happen?” Dean asked slowly.
Sam frowned. “Sunnydale? Why does that sound familiar?”
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Author: akat
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Angel through Rm w/a Vu; none for Supernatural
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon owns "Buffy the Vampire Slayer", “Angel: the Series”, and related characters; Eric Kripke owns “Supernatural” and related characters.
Summary: Sam and Dean met their match long before Lucifer came along. Who knew Cordelia Chase would be such a force to be reckoned with?
Word Count: 1,565
+++
“We’re here,” Dean announced as he put the rental car in park.
He didn’t make a move to get out, though; he just stared straight ahead, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly.
Sam rolled his eyes, knowing why his brother was hesitating.
“Dean, if you’re worried about Dad finding out, why did you drag me out on this hunt in the first place?” he asked, his voice full of exasperation. “I have midterms to study for.”
With a scowl, Dean turned to face him. “Okay, one, I’m not worried, because he’s not gonna find out. Two, it’s his own damn fault. What the hell did he expect us to do when he left us behind in LA for a few weeks while he went up north on a hunt? Take up knitting?” he scoffed.
“Yeah, that or go to school,” Sam retorted. “One of us, anyway.”
It was a little bit of a low blow, considering Dean had dropped out long ago partly by choice and partly by necessity, but he couldn’t help it. He really wanted to keep his GPA up for college applications.
Dean didn’t hear him, though; in fact, he just continued on as if Sam hadn’t said anything at all.
“And three, this isn’t even a real hunt anyway. We’re just gathering some intel, maybe test out the new EMF, and that’s it,” he reasoned. “The last suicide was what? Five years ago?”
Sam could’ve pointed out that the latest tenant claimed the place was haunted in a tabloid story just a few days ago, which is how they found out about it in the first place, but he didn’t. He knew better. Dean was obviously buying into his own hype, so it would just be easier to go along with him and get it over with so he could go home and study.
Taking his brother’s silence for agreement, Dean flashed him a quick grin and got out of the car, grabbing his gear as he went.
Stifling a sigh, Sam followed suit.
They both took a moment to check out the row of apartments. It had ‘California’ written all over it, from the mission-style architecture to the perfectly manicured lawns on the ground and the blue sky up above.
“So that’s it, huh?” Dean mused as he zeroed in on one door in particular.
Sam looked down at his notes. “Yeah, that’s the one. Three tenants have committed suicide there, one in ’59, another in ’65, and the last one in ’94. Nothing suspicious about any of them,” he reported.
“Until last week when Mr. Zacharian sold his story and got the hell out of Dodge... which means the place will be empty,” Dean finished. He gave his brother another grin. “C’mon, Sammy, let’s go.”
They quickly made their way to the front door, pulling out some supplies as soon as they reached the overhang. Then, with an EMF in one hand, Sam grabbed the door handle with the other. Not too surprisingly, it was locked. He immediately looked to Dean, who already had the lockpicking tools out and ready for action.
Before he could do anything, however, the door started to open as a female voice rang out.
“Doyle, I told you, I’m fine-”
Dean’s eyes lit up when the door swung all the way open, revealing a super hot brunette. “Yes, you are,” he smirked.
The girl returned his look and then some, her eyes raking over his body before smiling appreciatively at him. “Can I help you?” she coyly asked.
Dean grinned. “I hope so,” he began to say, but he was interrupted by a sharp jab to the ribs.
He turned to his brother to scowl, but he stopped when he saw Sam subtly look down toward the EMF.
The damned thing was going ape shit.
Sam cleared his throat as he hid the EMF behind his back. “Hi, Management sent us down ... we’re their after-school help,” he added, quickly improvising when he saw the doubtful look on her face. “Your neighbor complained about bugs, so we’re here to make sure they haven’t spread to your place.”
It was like he had just informed her that they were carriers of the plague.
She immediately stepped away from the door, obviously trying to put as much distance between them as possible.
“Do whatever it takes,” she ordered sternly, looking from Dean to Sam and back again.
Her eyes lingered on Dean for a split second, a look of pity and regret on her face, before she turned and walked over to her couch. Then she plopped herself down and began thumbing through some fashion magazine, clearly dismissing them as unimportant.
Dean stared at her, completely speechless and even more offended; Sam, on the other hand, began choking with laughter. They both snapped to attention, however, when the EMF starting beeping like crazy again.
It was time to get to work. And to get her the hell out of here.
By silent agreement, they each picked a random direction and began walking around the apartment, checking the place out as they pretended to look for bugs. Dean made a beeline for the kitchen, where he saw some mail sitting on the table. He immediately snuck a peek, reading the name off the address. ‘Cordelia Chase’.
“So, Miss Chase,” he said loudly as he tapped on a wall. “You got a real problem here. Termites. Everywhere. You’ve got vacate the property immediately so we can fumigate.”
He suppressed his grin as she jumped off the couch as if there was a fire under her. Barely. He definitely had a smug look on his face when Cordelia stormed right over to him, eyes blazing with anger.
“What?” she exclaimed. “No way! I just got this place back.”
She was smoking hot, all riled up and waving her arms around like a crazy woman. Dean couldn’t resist working her up a little more, especially since he was still smarting from the brush off when she found out he was the hired help.
Folding his arms across his chest, he gave her an indifferent look. “Sorry, lady, but rules are rules,” he retorted.
She got right in his face at this. “Oh yeah? Well, you’ll have to drag me out.”
“Not a problem,” Dean snorted.
“Dean,” Sam protested nervously as he made his way over toward the two, trying to rein in his brother’s stubbornness.
Neither Cordelia nor Dean heard him, though; they were too busy trying to stare each other down.
Then it happened. Cordelia looked away first, her eyes flickering toward the space in between Sam and Dean.
Dean smirked triumphantly. Damn straight. Before he could crow in victory, however, she did the strangest thing.
“Dennis, no!” she shouted.
Dean and Sam exchanged glances. Dennis? Who the hell was that?
At that moment, they both caught some movement out of the corner of their eyes, and Dean only just managed to duck in time to avoid getting clocked by a vase that was hurtling toward his head.
No sooner had it smashed against the wall than a plate rose in the air. It didn’t attack them, though; it just hung there, waiting.
Dean turned to Cordelia, not willing to waste any more time with this shit. “Look, do you want to die, princess? Because that right there? That’s a ghost, a vengeful spirit that will not rest until it murders that sweet little ass of yours,” he bit out.
Yeah, it was a bit overboard, but he wanted to get his point across.
To both Dean and Sam’s surprise, Cordelia started laughing. A lot. She was practically rolling on the ground.
Dean looked at Sam, a bit miffed. “Was that funny?”
Cordelia wiped her eyes. “You guys are way too late,” she announced, the laughter still in her voice. “I banished Mommy Dearest days ago.”
“But- but there’s still a ghost here!” Sam sputtered, holding up his EMF and gesturing to the plate that was still hanging mid-air.
Cordelia rolled her eyes. “Yeah? That’s Dennis. He’s my roommate,” she calmly explained. Then she put her hands on her hips. “Are you guys prejudice or something? There are such things as good ghosts, you know.”
Dean and Sam eyed Cordelia suspiciously, wondering if she was evil or under a spell or something. It just wasn’t natural.
As if on cue, the plate began floating toward them menacingly.
Cordelia waved her hand at it. “No, Dennis,” she said sharply. “Don’t give them an excuse to go all Ghostbusters on you. Just please, see them out.”
The plate immediately lowered back onto the counter. Then, before Sam and Dean knew what was happening, they found themselves being forcibly ushered out of the apartment. It didn’t stop until their feet hit the front mat.
Stunned, Sam and Dean turned back toward the apartment, only to see Cordelia standing in the open doorway, smirking at them.
“I don’t know who you are or what your deal is, but if you want to go all postal on the supernatural, go to Sunnydale,” she suggested with fake sweetness. Then her expression hardened. “Just stay the hell away from me!”
And with that, she slammed the door in their faces.
Sam and Dean looked at each other in confusion.
“Did that just happen?” Dean asked slowly.
Sam frowned. “Sunnydale? Why does that sound familiar?”
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