Show and Tell
Mood Music: We’re Going to Be Friends by The White Stripes
SHOW AND TELL
Bobby had told him to be on his best behavior. Clearly, Bobby did not want Dean to offend the librarian they were meeting to pick up the information Bobby had requested.
“I never realized Bobby knew so many people,” Sam said as they walked down the street, looking at the map before stuffing it into his back pocket. “I mean, I knew he was connected but with people at Northeastern?”
“Is it some sort of nerd mecca or something?” Dean retorted, glancing back at a group of girls who just walked past them. This area wasn’t so bad; plenty of co-eds to scope.
“Never mind, Dean,” his brother replied, turning towards one of the buildings. Dean followed, climbing the stairs behind Sam. This was possibly one of the biggest libraries he had been in. Usually, he just stopped at whatever ramshackle place the town held; with the occasion of a few times he stopped at some college out on the road to speak to a professor.
“Where are we supposed to be meeting this person?”
“Third floor, special collections,” Sam rattled off from memory, recalling the information that Bobby had relayed to him.
The area was deserted when they got there. There were a couple of students studying at tables nearby the stacks, but there was no one manning the desk and the lights in the office were off. Dean peered in the window of the office and shrugged his shoulders.
“Think we should just break in?” He offered, looking at Sam.
“I’d rather you didn’t,” a distinctly feminine voice spoke. They turned, looking at the blonde who had seemed to creep up on them. Her cheeks were windblown and the chocolate-colored leather trench coat easily communicated that she had just come in from the outside.
Dean took a moment to survey her appearance; appreciating the shape the coat gave her figure. He ignored the fact that she was carrying a stack of books and file folders as well as a cup of coffee. Actually, strike that - he was starting to have some of those naughty librarian fantasies.
“Can I help you with something?” She asked, glancing between them.
“We’re looking for Chloe Sullivan. Bobby Singer sent us,” Sam explained. The girl’s eyes lit in recognition, nodding.
“Oh, right,” she said, but then looked conflicted for a second. She shifted the books in her arm, looking for a place to dump them off.
“I got them,” Sam offered, taking the stack of books and glanced at the covers. All of the books had to do with cultural studies - particularly shaman and medicine men.
“Thanks,” she said sincerely, offering him a small smile as she dug a set of keys out of her pocket. Unlocking the office door, she stepped inside and flicked on the light. “Just put them down anywhere, I’ll sort them out later.”
Sam did as she requested when he stepped into the room, looking around. Mr. Lynch’s office had changed somewhat since the time Chloe took up house in there two months earlier. Articles were now plastered onto the walls with odd little trinkets on the desk. Dean was the last one to enter, closing the door behind them.
“I didn’t expect you guys so soon. Bobby said it would be a couple more days,” she said, removing her jacket before going over to a file cabinet. Chloe unlocked the drawers and began searching through the files.
Dean was slightly flabbergasted. Hottie library chick was the Chloe they were supposed to meet? That was certainly not going to do anything to stop the dirty thoughts.
Sam, oblivious to his brother’s internal thoughts, continued the conversation. “Is that a problem?”
“I was going to go by the Harvard library today and see if there was anything else,” Chloe admitted, removing a thick manila envelope from the back of one of the drawers. “Midterms put me behind.”
Student too? Must not think about Catholic school girl uniforms.
“Midterms?” Sam asked, slightly nostalgic.
“Yeah,” she smiled. “I should be done with this already, but…MetU blows.”
“Dark Thursday victim?”
“In more ways than one,” Chloe answered vaguely with a lingering tone in her voice. “Do you miss Stanford?”
“How did you know?”
“I’m a reporter first,” she replied, shrugging her shoulders. “Research just comes with the package.”
“Among other things,” Dean remarked absently, causing her gaze to turn towards him.
“Ignore him,” Sam insisted. Dean assumed it was because Sam was forming some sort of connection with the girl - a connection to the life his brother could have been living. Plus, it was unusual to find someone around their age thrust into the hunting life, even partly.
“Don’t worry. His reputation precedes him,” Chloe remarked with a smile.
“And we haven’t heard a thing about yours,” Dean said smoothly.
“We might have to fix that,” she laughed slightly. “If the things I have been hearing are true, we’re probably going to be working together more in the future.”
“I’m not going to complain.”
“Dean,” Sam chastised out of habit, rolling his eyes. Chloe merely laughed. She was used to this type of attention by now.
But then again, Bart seemed to be the warm-up act compared to Dean Winchester from what she had heard from Bobby.
“This is all I’ve got. Tell Bobby not to touch the dagger, unless he wants to have a penchant for cutting out people’s eyes for the rest of his life,” Chloe said, handing the envelope to Sam. “Don’t worry; it’s packed in there tight so there shouldn’t be any risk.”
“There’s a dagger in there?” Dean asked, intrigued.
“Priceless bronze artifact from the Pre-Ptolemaic Egyptians,” Chloe elaborated, taking a sip of the coffee she had brought in with her. “Legend has it that if the holder stabs someone with it, that someone gets a one way ticket to the hall of judgment or Duat and gets their heart eaten by the demon Ammit to remain forever in limbo. Problem is, the holder has to be careful because it’s a cursed object.”
“Sounds appetizing,” Dean remarked, focusing on the heart eating portion of her relation of the history.
“Remember that when you start to get curious about the dagger.”
“Duly noted.”
Chloe smiled, letting out a small laugh.
“How did you get it?” Sam asked curiously, looking at the envelope.
“Long story.”
“We’ve got some time before we leave,” Sam said, glancing toward Dean for approval.
“Trying to figure out if you can trust me?” Chloe asked, glancing between the two.
“If Bobby trusts you, we trust you,” Dean conveyed truthfully. Bobby was like a surrogate father to them, and just as paranoid about who they let in to their warped little world. “Come on, let’s get some food, I’m starving.”
Chloe paused, hand resting on her jacket. Dean turned, looking back at her.
“The way I see it, we just freed your afternoon of Harvard. And, face it sweetheart, you’re probably a little curious.”
She sighed, putting on her jacket and grabbing her keys and purse. Chloe locked the office behind them, walking between the boys as they went to the elevator.
“Hey, think we can go to Cheers?” Dean asked, a dopey smile coming to his face.
The elevator doors opened just as Sam and Chloe began to laugh.
“What? I want to see if they know my name...”
“They will by the time you’re finished there.”
Dean paused, looking at the blonde as she stepped into the elevator. He glanced at Sam who seemed to have the same thought.
They were going to get along well.