Those Three Words (6/?)
Title: Those Three Words
Authors: xtremeroswellia and clarksmuse
Rating: R to NC-17 for language and sexual scenes
Pairing: Chlean (Chloe/Dean) :D
Characters: multi-fandom -- Smallville, Supernatural, and Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Disclaimer: Neither of us own these characters. We're just borrowing them, so please don't sue!!
One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Twelve | Thirteen | Fourteen | Fifteen | Sixteen A | Sixteen B | Seventeen | Eighteen | Cocnlusion
Dean went to the only place Chloe could possibly have gone: Bluff's Point, the place Jack was last seen. The place of her torment, he thought as he spied her standing in the place where the two dead bodies had been spotted and then removed. Chloe was standing there, her arms wrapped around her waist, lost in thought.
"Thought I'd find you here," he said, approaching her with a little trepidation.
She didn't answer, simply stood still, staring over the point in silence.
"I thought you were going to get some sleep, research, or something that involved taking it easy," he continued, standing beside her and staring at the scene in front of him.
"I'm not taking it easy until I find this thing."
"Then neither am I," he said.
She drew in a breath and let it out slowly. "This isn't your battle," she whispered. "I'm the one who let him get away."
Turning to Chloe, he said, "Funny thing about that, Chloe. Sam thinks we were sent here to help you, so it's actually our fight, too.
A confused expression on her face, she turned to him. "Sent here to help me?"
"Our dad... he tends to send us on hunts with only coordinates he texts to us," Dean explained. "The latest ones sent us here." He hoped she understood what he was telling her.
"Why would your dad send you here?" She shook her head. "I mean, he doesn't know me."
Scratching his head, Dean replied, "Dad mentioned the Slayer and the Hellmouth here in his journal. Sammy used it to add stuff to your database on your computer."
Chloe's eyebrows furrowed. "But how does your dad know about the Slayer? About...about me?"
"I have... no idea," he replied, chuckling a little. "It's almost like we're meant to be here or something. I dunno." Dean put a hand on her shoulder to comfort her, though he felt awkward doing that in broad daylight. "So you've got some help, okay? As long as it takes. We'll be around to help you and your blonde Billy Idol Watcher." He threw her a lazy flirtatious smile.
A very faint smile touched her lips and she met his eyes.
Chloe's eyes connected with his and nearly knocked the breath out of him. Damn, he could lose himself in those green depths, he thought as he stared at her. But he shook himself out of his reverie and walked around the crime scene area.
"Dean?" Her voice was very soft as she watched him.
"Hmm?" he said, not looking at her while walking around in small circles, looking to see if the cops had missed any piece of evidence in their clean up job.
"Thanks," she whispered.
That was the last thing Dean expected to hear from her. He stopped and looked up at her, not missing the warmth in those green orbs. "For what?" he asked, a small, soft smile on his face.
"Everything," Chloe answered, holding his gaze.
Dean took a few steps towards her, enjoying the emotion that crossed her face. Gratitude. It wasn't something he got often. Cupping her cheek in his hand, he whispered. "You're welcome."
She swallowed hard, her gaze dropping to his lips.
Aw hell, he thought as she saw her gaze fall. He'd been wanting to kiss her all morning, so why not give into that impulse. Leaning into her, he gently touched her lips with his, feeling the heat between them rise as she responded to his kiss. Groaning, he tangled his fingers in her hair and deepened their kiss.
Chloe's eyes drifted shut as he pulled her closer and she lifted a hand to touch his face as she met him halfway.
Chloe's caress made his body react in ways it shouldn't be. Not in broad daylight... but Dean didn't pull away from her. He pulled her closer, so she was flush against him, kissing her like it was for the last time. He groaned gutturally, her mouth against his moving in a sensual yet passionate rhythm.
A soft groan escaped her as he pulled her against him. She didn't understand why she was so drawn to a guy she barely knew, but it felt like she'd known him forever. And the urge to be consumed entirely by him, by this heat between them, was stronger than anything she'd ever felt before.
Dean literally shivered in response to the need he felt emanating from her. Never had he known anything like this for anyone. Ever. His hands threaded through her hair, making her shiver with need and delight. His kisses became more intense, his need for her threatening to consume him. "Chloe?" he said raggedly, wanting her to be comfortable with this as much as he suddenly needed her.
It took her a moment to catch her breath and she swallowed hard, her eyes glazed over as she managed to look at him, suddenly remembering that it was broad daylight and they were in a public place.
Dean kissed her one last time, a quick hard kiss that spoke of promises to come later... assuming they didn't die first, he thought with a wry smile. "It's okay," he whispered, wrapping his arms around her and hugging her tightly. Feeling more alive with her than ever before.
&&&
"Where'd she run off to now?" Dean demanded, looking around the cemetery for Chloe, who seemed to have eluded the other three for who knows what. All Dean knew what that he had promised not to let her out of his sight, which was kind of impossible if she wasn't there.
"Dean," Sam replied, grabbing his brother's jacket to keep him from barreling off, "leave it. Chloe can take care of herself, ok?"
Spike walked alongside Sam in silence, his black coat billowing slightly in the cool night air. "She's a slippery one, that one," he commented with a faint smirk.
Sam smiled, knowing Spike knew her well enough to know she could handle whatever she was after and continued dragging Dean along with them. "Dude, I'm serious. She'll be fine. She is the Slayer, after all."
Dean yanked himself out of Sam's grip but didn't take off in search of Chloe. Frustrated that she didn't want him around and that maybe she was freaked out over what had happened earlier, he grumbled, "What does that mean, being the Slayer? How do I know she's really okay? Taking off by herself. Just plain dumb."
"You do it all the time, Dean," Sam protested.
"Yes, because I know what the hell I'm doing," Dean retorted without thinking.
"And so does she," Spike informed him. "She's got more working in her advantage than you do, in fact." He took a long drag off a cigarette as he headed for his crypt.
Dean followed hard on Spike's heels, infuriated that he could take such a casual attitude about her disappearance. "You gonna tell us about it... Billy?" he snapped, following Spike into his crypt.
Slightly annoyed that Dean just barged right inside without asking, Spike shot him a glare before heading for the fridge and grabbing a bag of blood and popping it into the microwave. "The Slayer has instincts stronger than any normal human. She's smart, she's fast...and damn amazing to watch fight." His eyes darkened and grew a bit distant for a moment, then he pulled the bag of blood out and dumped it into a mug, thinking more of Buffy than anything else. "Slayers are called for a reason. It's because they have certain...innate qualities that others don't." He took a long drink, amused by the disgust on Dean's face. "Advanced healing powers, stamina like you wouldn't believe..."
Sam stood beside Dean, shooting him a don't even say it look and turned to Spike. "I take it Chloe's not the first Slayer you've known, huh?"
"I'm a hundred and fifty years old," he replied, leaning against the crypt's wall and folding his arms across his chest. "I've known a few."
"Uh huh," Dean replied, brushing Sam off and sitting down on the plush couch. "So what more can you tell us about Slayers, aside from their... incredible stamina." He winked at Sam, who simply shook his head in shocked amusement.
Spike watched him in silence for a moment, his expression dark. "Don't get attached." His voice was cold and detached but deadly serious.
Dean noticed the starkness in Spike's face, and for the first time wondered about his history. Attachment was something he was clearly familiar with, but he knew better than to ask. Especially since Dean already suffered from the same thing.
Sam noticed his brother's hard response to Spike's strange comment and worried about Dean for the millionth time that day. "It might be too late for that, Spike," Sam replied, never taking his eyes off Dean.
"If it's not, it will be soon. Unless you leave now." He picked up his mug and took another drink, now thinking about bourbon instead of blood.
Sam's head snapped back to Spike, casually drinking his evening meal. "That's not going to happen. Not while Chloe needs our assistance. Our dad led us here, and knowing him, he'll want us to stay here until we've fulfilled our obligations."
He glanced sideways at Dean, whose shoulders had slumped as if the weight of the world was on his own shoulders. Already much too late, Sam thought, worried.
"Then do your job, and keep it at that." His voice was dark, dangerous and he moved to the corner to remove his bottle of bourbon, taking a long swig of that and grimacing slightly as it burned all the way down his throat. He smiled bitterly. "Because Slayers have their drawbacks."
"Such as... what?" Sam asked, not paying attention to Spike's change in demeanor.
Dean, on the other hand, noticed too much about Spike's moodiness and stood up and walked over to him. "You seem to know too much about Slayers not to have known one... intimately," he whispered, grabbing a glass and wordlessly asking for some bourbon.
"You're right about that," Spike said darkly, pouring some bourbon into Dean's glass and taking another drink himself. He began to answer Sam's question, though his eyes remained on the elder Winchester. "Most girls spend their lives thinking about what they'll do when they grow up. Slayers don't. Most of 'em don't make it that long. Most of 'em... don't want to."
Knocking back the drink, Dean grimaced and replied, "What do you mean, most of 'em don't want to? Are you trying to suggest that Chloe doesn’t?" Dean had figured Slayers lived a hard but short life, but the thought of Chloe dying too young was... unfathomable.
"I'm saying, all Slayers... have a death wish," Spike answered darkly. "Especially when they're already running from something in their past."
Dean stared at the vampire, understanding all too well how heading straight into the mouth of the demon lead to nothing but death. But it was Sammy, almost as if reading Dean's mind, who asked, "What, you're saying Chloe's running from something?"
Spike kept his gaze on Dean and remained silent.
"Chloe is running from something, Sammy," Dean called to his brother, never taking his eyes off Spike. "I just don't know what it is... yet." Taking another shot of bourbon, he downed it and nodded to the vampire, backing up to the couch to sit.
Clearly, Sam had missed something along the way, because the dark looks on both Spike and Dean made him extremely nervous. Especially since they weren't snarking at each other. "The last Slayer you knew, Spike," he said slowly. "How did... she die?"
Spike leaned against the coffin in his crypt, then took a long shot of bourbon. "Protecting her sister. And saving the world from Hell on Earth."
Sam sighed and looked down, saddened by the whole Slayer choosing process. "Why only one?" he asked out loud.
"What?" Dean said, snapping out of his dark thoughts over where Chloe was.
"Why is there only one Slayer?" Sam repeated. "With all the demons in the world, why not have several?"
"Ye fates be cruel," Spike mumbled.
"Nice non-answer," Dean grumbled in response. "What does Fate have to do with it?" He leaned forward, getting antsy with all this waiting.
"The truth of it is... I don't bloody well know," he responded. "Just how it's always been."
"Proof that just because you're old, you don't know all the answers," Dean laughed bitterly and stood up, heading for the door.
"Dean, where are you going?" Sam called, wanting to ask Spike more questions about being a Watcher but torn by his devotion to his brother to just watch him leave.
"Where do you think, Sam?" Dean muttered, reaching for the door handle.
"You won't find her unless she wants to be found," Spike informed him.
"Then I'm going out there to kill the first demon I come across," Dean snapped back. "Unless you have something more useful to tell us."
"I've already told you what you needed to know," he answered darkly.
He slammed the open door shut and strode back to Spike, getting in his face. "Need to know? That's not good enough, goddammit! I want to know it all!"
Sam stood beside both men but looked at Spike openly. "I've gotta agree with my brother on this one. We'll be here whether you like it or not. We need the whole nasty truth."
Spike straightened to his full height, towering over Dean and glowering at him. "Truth is...no one sent her here. She came on her own, like a moth to the flame. Because it's dangerous," he said with darkened, narrowed eyes.
"And why are you here, then?" Dean replied, meeting Spike's glare with his own.
"I have my own reasons," he answered, his eyes growing distant once more.
Grabbing Spike by his dark, billowy coat, Dean leaned in and whispered menacingly, "And is Chloe at the center of these reasons?"
Sam laid a hand on Dean. "Stop it," he whispered, trying to keep his all-too-pissed-off brother from staking the vampire.
An amused look flickered over Spike's features before he reached out and sent Dean stumbling backwards with a hard shove. "I'm not going down that bloody road again."
His pride hurt, pissed and worried about Chloe, Dean shook off Spike's physical response, looked at both of them and turned heel and walked out of the crypt, slamming the door behind him so hard that the noise reverberated throughout Spike's home.
Sighing, Sam sat down and ran a hand over his face. "I'm sorry about my brother," he said to Spike. "He doesn't do well with talk."
Spike lit up another cigarette silently, then looked at Sam. "What do you wanna know?"
"Everything," Sam said bluntly. "How they're called, how they practice, what they need to know to survive... how they die." Anything to help Dean accept who Chloe is, he thought, his gaze never leaving the vampire's face.
"I know a bloke. Can answer more of those questions than me. I'll give you his number."
Sam nodded at him, grateful for anything Spike could give. While he watched Spike jot down the number, he cautiously asked, "Why are you here? Seriously."
Spike was silent for a moment, eyeing him warily. "Atonement," he said simply.
Sam nodded silently, that one word speaking volumes. He took the number from Spike's outstretched hand. "Who's this guy, anyway?"
A faint smirk tugged at his lips. "Name's Rupert Giles. He was a Watcher."
"Rupert, huh?" Sam asked with a laugh. "He sounds very... British. Wait. You said, was. He's retired or something?"
"More or less. Once a Slayer dies... her Watcher is free of his duties with the bloody council."
Sam nodded, looking down at Mr. Giles' number and dreading that phone call he knew he must make. "I should go find Dean," he muttered, looking back up at Spike. "You're Chloe's Watcher, right?"
"Unofficial," Spike answered.
"Tell me where she went," Sam replied, knowing Dean would either continue looking for her until he dropped or die killing every sort of demon in sight. "It's important."
He was silent for a moment. "My guess is she's patrolling the docks. Where Jack made his first appearance."
"Thank you," Sam said and smiled at Spike. "I appreciate your help. You coming with me?" He turned at the door before opening it.
"Pass. Got my own demons to hunt tonight," he said grimly, removing an axe from his wall, a glint in his eyes. "Oh, and Sam? I wouldn't tell Giles I gave you his number."
Grimacing, Sam opened the door and said, "Sure, I'll tell him I nabbed it out of thin air." With a nod and a grin, he took off into the night, grabbing his cell phone to call Dean and find out where the hell we was.
&&&
Chloe spun, making contact with the vampire's abdomen and sending him sailing backwards into the wall. "You picked the wrong night to prey on innocent kids," she said darkly, striding toward him with a stake in hand as a couple of girls and one guy stood huddled nearby.
Dean had been searching for Chloe the last hour or so, but Sam's phone call about where Chloe could be made him haul ass towards the docks. Like he knew where the hell he was going... but he got there in time to see Chloe wailing on a very large, nasty vamp. He stayed back in the shadows, watching her with a combination of awe and envy. He'd never seen anyone fight like her, and watching her turned him on in ways he never thought possible.
Seconds later the vamp exploded into dust and she turned to face the kids.
"You saved our lives," one of the girls said, looking shocked.
"We should get home," the other girl said quickly, clutching the guy's arm.
"Not so fast," Chloe replied, her eyes narrowed and focused on the second girl.
Dean saw Chloe zero in on one of the girls in the huddled pack and stepped out of the shadows, being drawn to her intense staring. He didn't know if she saw him or not, but the fact that she looked like she was going to pounce on the second girl told him she clearly thought her a demon. He sprinted over to where she was.
Chloe didn't notice his presence until after the girl showed her true form, bearing her sharp fangs and letting out an angry growl. She caught sight of him running toward her at the same time the first girl screamed in horror at the sight. "Run," she said to the two human kids.
Watching Chloe out of the corner of his eye, he grabbed the two human kids and hauled them back and away, keeping them from harm. He backed up with them, watching Chloe pound the female vampire into the concrete pavement. "You two get the hell outta here, now," he growled at them and didn't stay to see them leave. He headed towards her, to ensure her safety. Not that she needed it, of course.
Suddenly a familiar, dreadful noise from above caught Chloe's attention and she looked up to see Springheel Jack. "Oh shit," she said under her breath, forgetting about the vampire entirely.
The female vamp looked up, looking every bit as frightened as the two kids had moments before. She took off in the other direction while the Slayer was distracted.
Dean didn't see at first what had distracted Chloe, but noticed the female vamp making a run for it. He grabbed her violently by the back of her hair and staked her before she knew what was coming.
Scrambling towards Chloe, he saw it: the Springheel Jack they had been hunting and researching, looking like a giant bat. Its wingspan alone had to have been eight feet wide. "Fuck," he whispered under his breath, noticing the demon saw not only him but also Chloe, who looked as though she had no power of her own. Fear crept through him as he felt the wind of the demon's wings beat at him.
"The kids," she said, not taking her eyes off the thing.
"They're gone," he replied, sneaking a look behind then and finding nothing. "Safe, I hope to God." He stared at the thing above them, swearing he saw a smile on its disgustingly dark and creepy features. He pulled out his gun, ready to take aim and shoot.
Chloe hesitated only a moment before sprinting and leaping up onto warehouse roof effortlessly, wielding her battle axe and putting herself level with Jack.
He smirked at her, his eyes glowing red. "We meet again," he whispered eerily.
"Dammit, Chloe," Dean grunted to himself, running around the building to find a ladder that led to the rooftop. He hauled himself up the ladder, praying he'd reach the top before the carnage had begun.
Her grip tightened slightly on the axe as Springheel Jack hovered just a few feet in front of her. "Let's go," she said darkly, taking a swing at him.
Moments later Dean reached the rooftop, slightly breathless but itching to pummel into this thing. He saw Chloe take a swing at Jack and the demon raise in the air just high enough so her axe hit nothing. She grunted in frustration, compelling Dean to whip out his gun and pull a few rounds into the demon's wing. The bullets did minimal damage, but the creature did shriek in pain and surprise. "Got ya, sick bastard," he muttered.
He found a large lead pipe and picked it up, hoping that would protect him better than his gun.
Chloe took the opportunity to swing at Jack with her axe once more, clipping the bottom of one of his wings and causing him to shriek again. She sensed it before it happened: the fire that spewed from his mouth right for her and Dean. Ducking, she rolled, taking Dean with her and landing them safely a few feet away. She was on her feet again instantly, adrenaline pumping through her veins.
Groaning, Dean rolled up again and jumped up to his feet. "Great, the fire thing," he said, noticing Jack eye him. But at least it was having a hard time staying in the air, which was a good thing. While Chloe took another swing at it with her axe, Dean used the pipe he'd found to smash into the creature's torso, which caused it to retaliate by trying to claw at him with its sharp toes. Dean ducked away from it successfully at first, though the second swipe caught him off guard and ripped a gash into his left arm. Roaring in pain, he whipped out the gun and started shooting at the thing, not knowing it he was hitting anything or not.
Truly pissed now, Chloe's eyes darkened with hatred and she flung her axe hard, instantly taking off the demon's head. Its lifeless body hit the ground below with a loud, sickening thud.
Dean stopped his wild shooting the second he heard the demon's carcass hit the ground. He looked at Chloe, the rage in her eyes powerful and oddly familiar. He knew that rage, because he'd been there way too many times to count.
He dropped his gun and took off his jacket, pissed as hell over the jagged rip in the arm. "Shit, that was my favorite jacket," he said, grimacing in pain over the bloody gash in his arm. "You alright?" he asked hesitantly.
Chloe slowly turned to face him, nodding slightly. "I'm fine." Wordlessly she shrugged out of her own jacket and wrapped it around his arm. "Come on. Let's get you home. Unless you're willing to go to a hospital."
"No way in hell I'm going to a hospital," he growled, feeling a little woozy from the shock his body had received. "I've had much worse, believe me." He handed Chloe his cell. "Call Sam. Tell him to get his ass over here with the Impala. Get us home." He saw the worry in her eyes and wanted to erase it somehow.
"Well, there went my plan of taking you back to my place and having my way with you post-slayage," she replied wryly, taking his phone and starting to dial Sam's number.
Dean laughed bitterly. "Just wait until I get this arm patched up, baby," he whispered, his heart beating faster at the mere thought.
Sam answered his cell on the first ring when he saw Dean's number. "Dean?" he said immediately, worried as hell that something was wrong.
"Chloe," she corrected him. "We're at the docks. You mind comin' to pick us up?" she asked, holding the coat on Dean's arm with one hand.
"Chloe?" Sam repeated, then made a beeline for the car, which he had parked close by the cemetery where Spike's crypt was. "What's happened?" He started the Impala and threw it into drive, speeding towards the docks.
"Well Springheel Jack is dead," she informed him.
"Whoa, you're kidding?" Sam replied, making a sharp let hand turn with his free hand. "You killed that alone?"
A small smile touched her lips and she met Dean's eyes. "No. Not alone."
Dean smiled back at her. "He thinks I'm nearly dead, doesn't he?"
Chloe grinned. "Dean says he's fine."
"Damn straight he better be," Sam growled back. "If he's dead, I'm gonna resurrect him and beat the crap out of him." Tearing around another corner, Sam spotted Chloe and Dean, both looking ragged and tired but Dean the only one bleeding. "I see ya," he replied before hanging up the phone.
Dean watched Sam tear around the corner like Hell was on his heels. "I'm going to kill him for squealing my tires like that," he muttered to Chloe.
"You both talk a good game but you'd be lost without each other."
Grunting, Dean watched as Sam squealed the car to a halt and grimaced again. "You're too perceptive, you know that?" he said jokingly, looking at her and wiping a stray blonde hair out of her face with his good hand.
"So I've been told," she said with a small smile, her eyes twinkling a little. "Come on." She guided him to the car with one hand on his good arm, climbing into the backseat.
"Dean, what the hell happened to you?" Sam demanded as soon as they got into the car.
"Thought I'd try out the new knife I bought on myself, just to see how well the blade worked," Dean snapped back, his head pounding and his arm throbbing from the pain.
Rolling his eyes, Sam hit the gas and started home. He looked in the rearview mirror at Chloe. "You okay, too, I hope?"
"I'm fine," she said, feeling more than slightly satisfied. "Thanks for comin' to get us."
"Anytime, Chloe," Sam replied with a smile. "I'm just glad you two are okay, though it’s gonna be funny seeing Dean fidget when I stitch him up."
"No way you're stitching me up, Twitchy," Dean replied with a grunt. "I don't need ‘em, dammit."
"Yes, you do," Chloe replied without hesitation.
Dean threw Chloe a look and his face twisted in pain as she removed her coat and glanced over the wound. "Do you have to do that... NOW?" he yelled, believing Sam was hitting every pothole and bump in the road.
"Relax. This is just a scratch."
"Then why does it hurt so much?" Dean growled, trying to act like a truly pitiful creature, just to get Chloe to take care of him.
Sam saw what Dean was doing and repressed a laugh. "Good thing for you we're here," he replied, pulling into Chloe's apartment complex. "Can't have you bleeding all over the car."
"Shut up, dude," Dean replied as he got out of the car and the three of them trodded up the stairs to her apartment.
Chloe saw through it too, but acted like she didn't simply to avoid hurting his pride. "Come on, let's go get that cleaned up," she said, leading him down the hallway and into the bathroom.
Once in the bathroom, Dean pulled up his sleeve, the pain in his arm reaching an all-time high. "Fuck, you'd think that thing had poison in its claws, this hurts so much," he admitted grudgingly.
"Tell me about it," she said quietly, reaching into the cabinet for the peroxide. "This isn't gonna be pleasant," she warned him.
"The peroxide," Dean winced, not looking forward to having that on his skin. And when she liberally poured it onto his wound, he shrieked in pain, not caring if Chloe thought him a complete wuss at this point.
Sam, hearing Dean's yelling, pounded on the door. "Hey, is he alright in there?"
Chloe rolled her eyes, stifling a giggle. "He's fine," she called back.
Sam stifled a laugh and said, "OK," before heading back into the living room to call Rupert Giles.
Dean endured Chloe's smirk as she cleaned his wound. "Gee thanks for making me sound like a bigger pussy," he muttered, though staring up at her.
"I think you did that all by yourself," she replied with a smirk.
Dean laughed a little, despite the pain of his cut. "Well, if you hadn't have poured the whole damn bottle on my arm, I wouldn't have screamed like a girl," he protested, watching her wrap his arm with a bandage.
"Uh huh." She smirked again.
Dean moved his arm around a little and stood up. "Thanks," he said, moving to her and squeezing her arms gently.
Chloe smiled at him. "No problem."
&&&
Leaving Chloe to handle Dean, which she knew she was fully capable of doing, Sam picked up the phone and dialed the number Spike had given him. Taking a deep breath, he waited for someone to answer.
"Magic Box. Where we're always happy to take your money!" A cheerful female voice said on the other end of the line.
OK, so not the person he was expecting. "Uh, hello," Sam started uncertainly. "I'm trying to reach a... Rupert Giles." Sam read the name on the slip of paper, mispronouncing the last name with a hard G.
"You mean Rupert Giles," she said. "Hold on. Unfortunately he's still here in the country and not back in England where he's supposed to be!"
"Uh... okay?" Sam said, knowing this girl spoke English, but nothing he could understand. "Isn't it a good thing he's still in the country?"
She snorted. "Not for me. Giles! Phone call!"
This was the strangest girl he had ever spoken with, Sam thought with a soft laugh. He waited for this Rupert Giles to get on the phone.
"Hello?" Giles said after a moment, rolling his eyes skyward at Anya.
"Rupert Giles?" Sam immediately asked as a very British-sounding man answered the phone. "My name is Sam Winchester."
There was a long pause. "Sam Winchester?" he repeated slowly, the name immediately triggering something in the back of his mind.
"Yes, sir," Sam replied. "I'm calling about... Chloe Sullivan. Need some information, if you have the time."
"I'm sorry, Chloe Sullivan?" His eyebrows furrowed.
"The Slayer," Sam replied, confused. "She's in Cleveland, apparently attacking everything evil, and me and my brother Dean are helping her out with that. But I know nothing about Slayers and was told you knew all about them." He wondered if this guy could help him out.
He was silent for a long moment, painful memories flickering through his mind. "How did you get my number?"
Shit, Sam thought. "Uh, I was told not to tell you... Aw hell. Spike did. Know him?"
Giles rubbed his forehead. "Spike," he muttered. "Of course."
"I take it Spike wasn't supposed to do that?" Sam was getting more scared by the minute.
"No, it's fine," he said after a moment. "Is Spike in Cleveland with the new Slayer?"
"Yes, he is."
"I see." He drew in a breath and let it out slowly. "What would you like to know?"
Clearing his throat, Sam noticed the tense note in Mr. Giles's voice. "Well, Mr. Giles, my brother and I don't know much about the Slayer, aside from some of the more obvious things... I guess... I need to know what makes a Slayer tick."
"Well, that'll certainly take awhile," he remarked. "If you would give me your phone number, I'll call you as soon as I arrive in Cleveland."
"You're coming to Cleveland?" Sam said, not the answer he was expecting.
"I'll be on the first flight out," Giles responded.
Giving Mr. Giles his cell number, Sam said, "We're staying with Chloe right now, but you can reach me at this number anytime.... and thank you for your help." A lame ending, but what else could he say?
"Certainly. I'll see you soon." He hung up the phone, feeling overwhelmed. The Winchesters had met up with the new Slayer. Fate certainly could be funny.
Authors: xtremeroswellia and clarksmuse
Rating: R to NC-17 for language and sexual scenes
Pairing: Chlean (Chloe/Dean) :D
Characters: multi-fandom -- Smallville, Supernatural, and Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Disclaimer: Neither of us own these characters. We're just borrowing them, so please don't sue!!
One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Twelve | Thirteen | Fourteen | Fifteen | Sixteen A | Sixteen B | Seventeen | Eighteen | Cocnlusion
Dean went to the only place Chloe could possibly have gone: Bluff's Point, the place Jack was last seen. The place of her torment, he thought as he spied her standing in the place where the two dead bodies had been spotted and then removed. Chloe was standing there, her arms wrapped around her waist, lost in thought.
"Thought I'd find you here," he said, approaching her with a little trepidation.
She didn't answer, simply stood still, staring over the point in silence.
"I thought you were going to get some sleep, research, or something that involved taking it easy," he continued, standing beside her and staring at the scene in front of him.
"I'm not taking it easy until I find this thing."
"Then neither am I," he said.
She drew in a breath and let it out slowly. "This isn't your battle," she whispered. "I'm the one who let him get away."
Turning to Chloe, he said, "Funny thing about that, Chloe. Sam thinks we were sent here to help you, so it's actually our fight, too.
A confused expression on her face, she turned to him. "Sent here to help me?"
"Our dad... he tends to send us on hunts with only coordinates he texts to us," Dean explained. "The latest ones sent us here." He hoped she understood what he was telling her.
"Why would your dad send you here?" She shook her head. "I mean, he doesn't know me."
Scratching his head, Dean replied, "Dad mentioned the Slayer and the Hellmouth here in his journal. Sammy used it to add stuff to your database on your computer."
Chloe's eyebrows furrowed. "But how does your dad know about the Slayer? About...about me?"
"I have... no idea," he replied, chuckling a little. "It's almost like we're meant to be here or something. I dunno." Dean put a hand on her shoulder to comfort her, though he felt awkward doing that in broad daylight. "So you've got some help, okay? As long as it takes. We'll be around to help you and your blonde Billy Idol Watcher." He threw her a lazy flirtatious smile.
A very faint smile touched her lips and she met his eyes.
Chloe's eyes connected with his and nearly knocked the breath out of him. Damn, he could lose himself in those green depths, he thought as he stared at her. But he shook himself out of his reverie and walked around the crime scene area.
"Dean?" Her voice was very soft as she watched him.
"Hmm?" he said, not looking at her while walking around in small circles, looking to see if the cops had missed any piece of evidence in their clean up job.
"Thanks," she whispered.
That was the last thing Dean expected to hear from her. He stopped and looked up at her, not missing the warmth in those green orbs. "For what?" he asked, a small, soft smile on his face.
"Everything," Chloe answered, holding his gaze.
Dean took a few steps towards her, enjoying the emotion that crossed her face. Gratitude. It wasn't something he got often. Cupping her cheek in his hand, he whispered. "You're welcome."
She swallowed hard, her gaze dropping to his lips.
Aw hell, he thought as she saw her gaze fall. He'd been wanting to kiss her all morning, so why not give into that impulse. Leaning into her, he gently touched her lips with his, feeling the heat between them rise as she responded to his kiss. Groaning, he tangled his fingers in her hair and deepened their kiss.
Chloe's eyes drifted shut as he pulled her closer and she lifted a hand to touch his face as she met him halfway.
Chloe's caress made his body react in ways it shouldn't be. Not in broad daylight... but Dean didn't pull away from her. He pulled her closer, so she was flush against him, kissing her like it was for the last time. He groaned gutturally, her mouth against his moving in a sensual yet passionate rhythm.
A soft groan escaped her as he pulled her against him. She didn't understand why she was so drawn to a guy she barely knew, but it felt like she'd known him forever. And the urge to be consumed entirely by him, by this heat between them, was stronger than anything she'd ever felt before.
Dean literally shivered in response to the need he felt emanating from her. Never had he known anything like this for anyone. Ever. His hands threaded through her hair, making her shiver with need and delight. His kisses became more intense, his need for her threatening to consume him. "Chloe?" he said raggedly, wanting her to be comfortable with this as much as he suddenly needed her.
It took her a moment to catch her breath and she swallowed hard, her eyes glazed over as she managed to look at him, suddenly remembering that it was broad daylight and they were in a public place.
Dean kissed her one last time, a quick hard kiss that spoke of promises to come later... assuming they didn't die first, he thought with a wry smile. "It's okay," he whispered, wrapping his arms around her and hugging her tightly. Feeling more alive with her than ever before.
&&&
"Where'd she run off to now?" Dean demanded, looking around the cemetery for Chloe, who seemed to have eluded the other three for who knows what. All Dean knew what that he had promised not to let her out of his sight, which was kind of impossible if she wasn't there.
"Dean," Sam replied, grabbing his brother's jacket to keep him from barreling off, "leave it. Chloe can take care of herself, ok?"
Spike walked alongside Sam in silence, his black coat billowing slightly in the cool night air. "She's a slippery one, that one," he commented with a faint smirk.
Sam smiled, knowing Spike knew her well enough to know she could handle whatever she was after and continued dragging Dean along with them. "Dude, I'm serious. She'll be fine. She is the Slayer, after all."
Dean yanked himself out of Sam's grip but didn't take off in search of Chloe. Frustrated that she didn't want him around and that maybe she was freaked out over what had happened earlier, he grumbled, "What does that mean, being the Slayer? How do I know she's really okay? Taking off by herself. Just plain dumb."
"You do it all the time, Dean," Sam protested.
"Yes, because I know what the hell I'm doing," Dean retorted without thinking.
"And so does she," Spike informed him. "She's got more working in her advantage than you do, in fact." He took a long drag off a cigarette as he headed for his crypt.
Dean followed hard on Spike's heels, infuriated that he could take such a casual attitude about her disappearance. "You gonna tell us about it... Billy?" he snapped, following Spike into his crypt.
Slightly annoyed that Dean just barged right inside without asking, Spike shot him a glare before heading for the fridge and grabbing a bag of blood and popping it into the microwave. "The Slayer has instincts stronger than any normal human. She's smart, she's fast...and damn amazing to watch fight." His eyes darkened and grew a bit distant for a moment, then he pulled the bag of blood out and dumped it into a mug, thinking more of Buffy than anything else. "Slayers are called for a reason. It's because they have certain...innate qualities that others don't." He took a long drink, amused by the disgust on Dean's face. "Advanced healing powers, stamina like you wouldn't believe..."
Sam stood beside Dean, shooting him a don't even say it look and turned to Spike. "I take it Chloe's not the first Slayer you've known, huh?"
"I'm a hundred and fifty years old," he replied, leaning against the crypt's wall and folding his arms across his chest. "I've known a few."
"Uh huh," Dean replied, brushing Sam off and sitting down on the plush couch. "So what more can you tell us about Slayers, aside from their... incredible stamina." He winked at Sam, who simply shook his head in shocked amusement.
Spike watched him in silence for a moment, his expression dark. "Don't get attached." His voice was cold and detached but deadly serious.
Dean noticed the starkness in Spike's face, and for the first time wondered about his history. Attachment was something he was clearly familiar with, but he knew better than to ask. Especially since Dean already suffered from the same thing.
Sam noticed his brother's hard response to Spike's strange comment and worried about Dean for the millionth time that day. "It might be too late for that, Spike," Sam replied, never taking his eyes off Dean.
"If it's not, it will be soon. Unless you leave now." He picked up his mug and took another drink, now thinking about bourbon instead of blood.
Sam's head snapped back to Spike, casually drinking his evening meal. "That's not going to happen. Not while Chloe needs our assistance. Our dad led us here, and knowing him, he'll want us to stay here until we've fulfilled our obligations."
He glanced sideways at Dean, whose shoulders had slumped as if the weight of the world was on his own shoulders. Already much too late, Sam thought, worried.
"Then do your job, and keep it at that." His voice was dark, dangerous and he moved to the corner to remove his bottle of bourbon, taking a long swig of that and grimacing slightly as it burned all the way down his throat. He smiled bitterly. "Because Slayers have their drawbacks."
"Such as... what?" Sam asked, not paying attention to Spike's change in demeanor.
Dean, on the other hand, noticed too much about Spike's moodiness and stood up and walked over to him. "You seem to know too much about Slayers not to have known one... intimately," he whispered, grabbing a glass and wordlessly asking for some bourbon.
"You're right about that," Spike said darkly, pouring some bourbon into Dean's glass and taking another drink himself. He began to answer Sam's question, though his eyes remained on the elder Winchester. "Most girls spend their lives thinking about what they'll do when they grow up. Slayers don't. Most of 'em don't make it that long. Most of 'em... don't want to."
Knocking back the drink, Dean grimaced and replied, "What do you mean, most of 'em don't want to? Are you trying to suggest that Chloe doesn’t?" Dean had figured Slayers lived a hard but short life, but the thought of Chloe dying too young was... unfathomable.
"I'm saying, all Slayers... have a death wish," Spike answered darkly. "Especially when they're already running from something in their past."
Dean stared at the vampire, understanding all too well how heading straight into the mouth of the demon lead to nothing but death. But it was Sammy, almost as if reading Dean's mind, who asked, "What, you're saying Chloe's running from something?"
Spike kept his gaze on Dean and remained silent.
"Chloe is running from something, Sammy," Dean called to his brother, never taking his eyes off Spike. "I just don't know what it is... yet." Taking another shot of bourbon, he downed it and nodded to the vampire, backing up to the couch to sit.
Clearly, Sam had missed something along the way, because the dark looks on both Spike and Dean made him extremely nervous. Especially since they weren't snarking at each other. "The last Slayer you knew, Spike," he said slowly. "How did... she die?"
Spike leaned against the coffin in his crypt, then took a long shot of bourbon. "Protecting her sister. And saving the world from Hell on Earth."
Sam sighed and looked down, saddened by the whole Slayer choosing process. "Why only one?" he asked out loud.
"What?" Dean said, snapping out of his dark thoughts over where Chloe was.
"Why is there only one Slayer?" Sam repeated. "With all the demons in the world, why not have several?"
"Ye fates be cruel," Spike mumbled.
"Nice non-answer," Dean grumbled in response. "What does Fate have to do with it?" He leaned forward, getting antsy with all this waiting.
"The truth of it is... I don't bloody well know," he responded. "Just how it's always been."
"Proof that just because you're old, you don't know all the answers," Dean laughed bitterly and stood up, heading for the door.
"Dean, where are you going?" Sam called, wanting to ask Spike more questions about being a Watcher but torn by his devotion to his brother to just watch him leave.
"Where do you think, Sam?" Dean muttered, reaching for the door handle.
"You won't find her unless she wants to be found," Spike informed him.
"Then I'm going out there to kill the first demon I come across," Dean snapped back. "Unless you have something more useful to tell us."
"I've already told you what you needed to know," he answered darkly.
He slammed the open door shut and strode back to Spike, getting in his face. "Need to know? That's not good enough, goddammit! I want to know it all!"
Sam stood beside both men but looked at Spike openly. "I've gotta agree with my brother on this one. We'll be here whether you like it or not. We need the whole nasty truth."
Spike straightened to his full height, towering over Dean and glowering at him. "Truth is...no one sent her here. She came on her own, like a moth to the flame. Because it's dangerous," he said with darkened, narrowed eyes.
"And why are you here, then?" Dean replied, meeting Spike's glare with his own.
"I have my own reasons," he answered, his eyes growing distant once more.
Grabbing Spike by his dark, billowy coat, Dean leaned in and whispered menacingly, "And is Chloe at the center of these reasons?"
Sam laid a hand on Dean. "Stop it," he whispered, trying to keep his all-too-pissed-off brother from staking the vampire.
An amused look flickered over Spike's features before he reached out and sent Dean stumbling backwards with a hard shove. "I'm not going down that bloody road again."
His pride hurt, pissed and worried about Chloe, Dean shook off Spike's physical response, looked at both of them and turned heel and walked out of the crypt, slamming the door behind him so hard that the noise reverberated throughout Spike's home.
Sighing, Sam sat down and ran a hand over his face. "I'm sorry about my brother," he said to Spike. "He doesn't do well with talk."
Spike lit up another cigarette silently, then looked at Sam. "What do you wanna know?"
"Everything," Sam said bluntly. "How they're called, how they practice, what they need to know to survive... how they die." Anything to help Dean accept who Chloe is, he thought, his gaze never leaving the vampire's face.
"I know a bloke. Can answer more of those questions than me. I'll give you his number."
Sam nodded at him, grateful for anything Spike could give. While he watched Spike jot down the number, he cautiously asked, "Why are you here? Seriously."
Spike was silent for a moment, eyeing him warily. "Atonement," he said simply.
Sam nodded silently, that one word speaking volumes. He took the number from Spike's outstretched hand. "Who's this guy, anyway?"
A faint smirk tugged at his lips. "Name's Rupert Giles. He was a Watcher."
"Rupert, huh?" Sam asked with a laugh. "He sounds very... British. Wait. You said, was. He's retired or something?"
"More or less. Once a Slayer dies... her Watcher is free of his duties with the bloody council."
Sam nodded, looking down at Mr. Giles' number and dreading that phone call he knew he must make. "I should go find Dean," he muttered, looking back up at Spike. "You're Chloe's Watcher, right?"
"Unofficial," Spike answered.
"Tell me where she went," Sam replied, knowing Dean would either continue looking for her until he dropped or die killing every sort of demon in sight. "It's important."
He was silent for a moment. "My guess is she's patrolling the docks. Where Jack made his first appearance."
"Thank you," Sam said and smiled at Spike. "I appreciate your help. You coming with me?" He turned at the door before opening it.
"Pass. Got my own demons to hunt tonight," he said grimly, removing an axe from his wall, a glint in his eyes. "Oh, and Sam? I wouldn't tell Giles I gave you his number."
Grimacing, Sam opened the door and said, "Sure, I'll tell him I nabbed it out of thin air." With a nod and a grin, he took off into the night, grabbing his cell phone to call Dean and find out where the hell we was.
&&&
Chloe spun, making contact with the vampire's abdomen and sending him sailing backwards into the wall. "You picked the wrong night to prey on innocent kids," she said darkly, striding toward him with a stake in hand as a couple of girls and one guy stood huddled nearby.
Dean had been searching for Chloe the last hour or so, but Sam's phone call about where Chloe could be made him haul ass towards the docks. Like he knew where the hell he was going... but he got there in time to see Chloe wailing on a very large, nasty vamp. He stayed back in the shadows, watching her with a combination of awe and envy. He'd never seen anyone fight like her, and watching her turned him on in ways he never thought possible.
Seconds later the vamp exploded into dust and she turned to face the kids.
"You saved our lives," one of the girls said, looking shocked.
"We should get home," the other girl said quickly, clutching the guy's arm.
"Not so fast," Chloe replied, her eyes narrowed and focused on the second girl.
Dean saw Chloe zero in on one of the girls in the huddled pack and stepped out of the shadows, being drawn to her intense staring. He didn't know if she saw him or not, but the fact that she looked like she was going to pounce on the second girl told him she clearly thought her a demon. He sprinted over to where she was.
Chloe didn't notice his presence until after the girl showed her true form, bearing her sharp fangs and letting out an angry growl. She caught sight of him running toward her at the same time the first girl screamed in horror at the sight. "Run," she said to the two human kids.
Watching Chloe out of the corner of his eye, he grabbed the two human kids and hauled them back and away, keeping them from harm. He backed up with them, watching Chloe pound the female vampire into the concrete pavement. "You two get the hell outta here, now," he growled at them and didn't stay to see them leave. He headed towards her, to ensure her safety. Not that she needed it, of course.
Suddenly a familiar, dreadful noise from above caught Chloe's attention and she looked up to see Springheel Jack. "Oh shit," she said under her breath, forgetting about the vampire entirely.
The female vamp looked up, looking every bit as frightened as the two kids had moments before. She took off in the other direction while the Slayer was distracted.
Dean didn't see at first what had distracted Chloe, but noticed the female vamp making a run for it. He grabbed her violently by the back of her hair and staked her before she knew what was coming.
Scrambling towards Chloe, he saw it: the Springheel Jack they had been hunting and researching, looking like a giant bat. Its wingspan alone had to have been eight feet wide. "Fuck," he whispered under his breath, noticing the demon saw not only him but also Chloe, who looked as though she had no power of her own. Fear crept through him as he felt the wind of the demon's wings beat at him.
"The kids," she said, not taking her eyes off the thing.
"They're gone," he replied, sneaking a look behind then and finding nothing. "Safe, I hope to God." He stared at the thing above them, swearing he saw a smile on its disgustingly dark and creepy features. He pulled out his gun, ready to take aim and shoot.
Chloe hesitated only a moment before sprinting and leaping up onto warehouse roof effortlessly, wielding her battle axe and putting herself level with Jack.
He smirked at her, his eyes glowing red. "We meet again," he whispered eerily.
"Dammit, Chloe," Dean grunted to himself, running around the building to find a ladder that led to the rooftop. He hauled himself up the ladder, praying he'd reach the top before the carnage had begun.
Her grip tightened slightly on the axe as Springheel Jack hovered just a few feet in front of her. "Let's go," she said darkly, taking a swing at him.
Moments later Dean reached the rooftop, slightly breathless but itching to pummel into this thing. He saw Chloe take a swing at Jack and the demon raise in the air just high enough so her axe hit nothing. She grunted in frustration, compelling Dean to whip out his gun and pull a few rounds into the demon's wing. The bullets did minimal damage, but the creature did shriek in pain and surprise. "Got ya, sick bastard," he muttered.
He found a large lead pipe and picked it up, hoping that would protect him better than his gun.
Chloe took the opportunity to swing at Jack with her axe once more, clipping the bottom of one of his wings and causing him to shriek again. She sensed it before it happened: the fire that spewed from his mouth right for her and Dean. Ducking, she rolled, taking Dean with her and landing them safely a few feet away. She was on her feet again instantly, adrenaline pumping through her veins.
Groaning, Dean rolled up again and jumped up to his feet. "Great, the fire thing," he said, noticing Jack eye him. But at least it was having a hard time staying in the air, which was a good thing. While Chloe took another swing at it with her axe, Dean used the pipe he'd found to smash into the creature's torso, which caused it to retaliate by trying to claw at him with its sharp toes. Dean ducked away from it successfully at first, though the second swipe caught him off guard and ripped a gash into his left arm. Roaring in pain, he whipped out the gun and started shooting at the thing, not knowing it he was hitting anything or not.
Truly pissed now, Chloe's eyes darkened with hatred and she flung her axe hard, instantly taking off the demon's head. Its lifeless body hit the ground below with a loud, sickening thud.
Dean stopped his wild shooting the second he heard the demon's carcass hit the ground. He looked at Chloe, the rage in her eyes powerful and oddly familiar. He knew that rage, because he'd been there way too many times to count.
He dropped his gun and took off his jacket, pissed as hell over the jagged rip in the arm. "Shit, that was my favorite jacket," he said, grimacing in pain over the bloody gash in his arm. "You alright?" he asked hesitantly.
Chloe slowly turned to face him, nodding slightly. "I'm fine." Wordlessly she shrugged out of her own jacket and wrapped it around his arm. "Come on. Let's get you home. Unless you're willing to go to a hospital."
"No way in hell I'm going to a hospital," he growled, feeling a little woozy from the shock his body had received. "I've had much worse, believe me." He handed Chloe his cell. "Call Sam. Tell him to get his ass over here with the Impala. Get us home." He saw the worry in her eyes and wanted to erase it somehow.
"Well, there went my plan of taking you back to my place and having my way with you post-slayage," she replied wryly, taking his phone and starting to dial Sam's number.
Dean laughed bitterly. "Just wait until I get this arm patched up, baby," he whispered, his heart beating faster at the mere thought.
Sam answered his cell on the first ring when he saw Dean's number. "Dean?" he said immediately, worried as hell that something was wrong.
"Chloe," she corrected him. "We're at the docks. You mind comin' to pick us up?" she asked, holding the coat on Dean's arm with one hand.
"Chloe?" Sam repeated, then made a beeline for the car, which he had parked close by the cemetery where Spike's crypt was. "What's happened?" He started the Impala and threw it into drive, speeding towards the docks.
"Well Springheel Jack is dead," she informed him.
"Whoa, you're kidding?" Sam replied, making a sharp let hand turn with his free hand. "You killed that alone?"
A small smile touched her lips and she met Dean's eyes. "No. Not alone."
Dean smiled back at her. "He thinks I'm nearly dead, doesn't he?"
Chloe grinned. "Dean says he's fine."
"Damn straight he better be," Sam growled back. "If he's dead, I'm gonna resurrect him and beat the crap out of him." Tearing around another corner, Sam spotted Chloe and Dean, both looking ragged and tired but Dean the only one bleeding. "I see ya," he replied before hanging up the phone.
Dean watched Sam tear around the corner like Hell was on his heels. "I'm going to kill him for squealing my tires like that," he muttered to Chloe.
"You both talk a good game but you'd be lost without each other."
Grunting, Dean watched as Sam squealed the car to a halt and grimaced again. "You're too perceptive, you know that?" he said jokingly, looking at her and wiping a stray blonde hair out of her face with his good hand.
"So I've been told," she said with a small smile, her eyes twinkling a little. "Come on." She guided him to the car with one hand on his good arm, climbing into the backseat.
"Dean, what the hell happened to you?" Sam demanded as soon as they got into the car.
"Thought I'd try out the new knife I bought on myself, just to see how well the blade worked," Dean snapped back, his head pounding and his arm throbbing from the pain.
Rolling his eyes, Sam hit the gas and started home. He looked in the rearview mirror at Chloe. "You okay, too, I hope?"
"I'm fine," she said, feeling more than slightly satisfied. "Thanks for comin' to get us."
"Anytime, Chloe," Sam replied with a smile. "I'm just glad you two are okay, though it’s gonna be funny seeing Dean fidget when I stitch him up."
"No way you're stitching me up, Twitchy," Dean replied with a grunt. "I don't need ‘em, dammit."
"Yes, you do," Chloe replied without hesitation.
Dean threw Chloe a look and his face twisted in pain as she removed her coat and glanced over the wound. "Do you have to do that... NOW?" he yelled, believing Sam was hitting every pothole and bump in the road.
"Relax. This is just a scratch."
"Then why does it hurt so much?" Dean growled, trying to act like a truly pitiful creature, just to get Chloe to take care of him.
Sam saw what Dean was doing and repressed a laugh. "Good thing for you we're here," he replied, pulling into Chloe's apartment complex. "Can't have you bleeding all over the car."
"Shut up, dude," Dean replied as he got out of the car and the three of them trodded up the stairs to her apartment.
Chloe saw through it too, but acted like she didn't simply to avoid hurting his pride. "Come on, let's go get that cleaned up," she said, leading him down the hallway and into the bathroom.
Once in the bathroom, Dean pulled up his sleeve, the pain in his arm reaching an all-time high. "Fuck, you'd think that thing had poison in its claws, this hurts so much," he admitted grudgingly.
"Tell me about it," she said quietly, reaching into the cabinet for the peroxide. "This isn't gonna be pleasant," she warned him.
"The peroxide," Dean winced, not looking forward to having that on his skin. And when she liberally poured it onto his wound, he shrieked in pain, not caring if Chloe thought him a complete wuss at this point.
Sam, hearing Dean's yelling, pounded on the door. "Hey, is he alright in there?"
Chloe rolled her eyes, stifling a giggle. "He's fine," she called back.
Sam stifled a laugh and said, "OK," before heading back into the living room to call Rupert Giles.
Dean endured Chloe's smirk as she cleaned his wound. "Gee thanks for making me sound like a bigger pussy," he muttered, though staring up at her.
"I think you did that all by yourself," she replied with a smirk.
Dean laughed a little, despite the pain of his cut. "Well, if you hadn't have poured the whole damn bottle on my arm, I wouldn't have screamed like a girl," he protested, watching her wrap his arm with a bandage.
"Uh huh." She smirked again.
Dean moved his arm around a little and stood up. "Thanks," he said, moving to her and squeezing her arms gently.
Chloe smiled at him. "No problem."
&&&
Leaving Chloe to handle Dean, which she knew she was fully capable of doing, Sam picked up the phone and dialed the number Spike had given him. Taking a deep breath, he waited for someone to answer.
"Magic Box. Where we're always happy to take your money!" A cheerful female voice said on the other end of the line.
OK, so not the person he was expecting. "Uh, hello," Sam started uncertainly. "I'm trying to reach a... Rupert Giles." Sam read the name on the slip of paper, mispronouncing the last name with a hard G.
"You mean Rupert Giles," she said. "Hold on. Unfortunately he's still here in the country and not back in England where he's supposed to be!"
"Uh... okay?" Sam said, knowing this girl spoke English, but nothing he could understand. "Isn't it a good thing he's still in the country?"
She snorted. "Not for me. Giles! Phone call!"
This was the strangest girl he had ever spoken with, Sam thought with a soft laugh. He waited for this Rupert Giles to get on the phone.
"Hello?" Giles said after a moment, rolling his eyes skyward at Anya.
"Rupert Giles?" Sam immediately asked as a very British-sounding man answered the phone. "My name is Sam Winchester."
There was a long pause. "Sam Winchester?" he repeated slowly, the name immediately triggering something in the back of his mind.
"Yes, sir," Sam replied. "I'm calling about... Chloe Sullivan. Need some information, if you have the time."
"I'm sorry, Chloe Sullivan?" His eyebrows furrowed.
"The Slayer," Sam replied, confused. "She's in Cleveland, apparently attacking everything evil, and me and my brother Dean are helping her out with that. But I know nothing about Slayers and was told you knew all about them." He wondered if this guy could help him out.
He was silent for a long moment, painful memories flickering through his mind. "How did you get my number?"
Shit, Sam thought. "Uh, I was told not to tell you... Aw hell. Spike did. Know him?"
Giles rubbed his forehead. "Spike," he muttered. "Of course."
"I take it Spike wasn't supposed to do that?" Sam was getting more scared by the minute.
"No, it's fine," he said after a moment. "Is Spike in Cleveland with the new Slayer?"
"Yes, he is."
"I see." He drew in a breath and let it out slowly. "What would you like to know?"
Clearing his throat, Sam noticed the tense note in Mr. Giles's voice. "Well, Mr. Giles, my brother and I don't know much about the Slayer, aside from some of the more obvious things... I guess... I need to know what makes a Slayer tick."
"Well, that'll certainly take awhile," he remarked. "If you would give me your phone number, I'll call you as soon as I arrive in Cleveland."
"You're coming to Cleveland?" Sam said, not the answer he was expecting.
"I'll be on the first flight out," Giles responded.
Giving Mr. Giles his cell number, Sam said, "We're staying with Chloe right now, but you can reach me at this number anytime.... and thank you for your help." A lame ending, but what else could he say?
"Certainly. I'll see you soon." He hung up the phone, feeling overwhelmed. The Winchesters had met up with the new Slayer. Fate certainly could be funny.