Fic: His Girl Friday (3/9)
Fic: His Girl Friday (3/9)
Summary: He had to figure out where they stood. Otherwise, they couldn't go forward
Author: pen37
Beta: Clarksmuse
Fandoms: Smallville/Supernatural/DCU
Characters: Chloe, Sam, Dean, Jo
Pairing:Chloe/Dean
Rating: G
This is a part of the Special Projects series. You can find the rest of the series here.
Written for the Crossovers100 challenge. Prompt #58 Dinner. The table is here.
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9a, Part 9b
Jo sat in the Memphis National Airport terminal under a big sun-hat and face-covering shades, looking more like a movie starlet than a hunter. She felt damn silly. These days she rarely wore anything fancier than an old pair of jeans.
But there was no one else to pick Sam up, and she didn’t want to be recognized as the one who had used fairee-money to purchase her last set of airline tickets.
She shifted uncomfortably under the wide-brimmed, hot hat, and tried not to fret. Sam had sounded worried when he called, asking her to pick him up.
If she wanted to be honest with herself, she wasn’t looking forward to seeing the younger Winchester brother.
Not this soon after he’d nearly been killed.
Not when the entire nerve-wracking trip to see him, she remembered how jumpy her mom used to get when dad was out hunting. And later - of her grief when he didn’t come back.
Seeing Sam lying there so still seemed to dredge up so many undesirable could-be’s. She’d done her time as a hunter - made her peace with her father’s metaphorical ghost. Did she really want to dredge all of that back up by dating another hunter?
And a Winchester, no less? Uncle John had been a special kind of crazy - even by hunter standards.
Most hunters found something else to do to keep themselves going. Dad had the bar. Uncle Bobby, the salvage yard. Even Pastor Jim had his church.
But all Uncle John ever did was hunt, and run the occasional con to keep gas in the tank and bullets in the guns. And Sam and Dean were cut from the same cloth. Intensely focused on the job - with little room for any kind of life that didn’t involve roaming.
Jo knew that wasn’t a life she wanted for herself. At the height of her hunting days, she’d still held down a job - the thing about tending bar was that you could always find a job. And it was nice, mindless work. Perfect for giving you time to puzzle out a case. And being both good at it and pretty meant that she’d always had the cash to cover gas and ammo, plus good tips to cover a bed somewhere and mac and cheese.
Now though, she had a roadhouse of her own - courtesy the seed money that her mom had been putting by against the day that she was ready for it. And having the bar gave her purpose beyond wasting demons and stubborn ghosts. She wasn’t about to give that up to go draggin-ass around the country. Even for someone as sweet as Sam.
So as much as she liked him and as cherished as he made her feel, she really wished that Sam wasn’t coming to see her right now.
Maybe - If he’d waited a month or two. Maybe then - if he’d come walking in and ordered a beer all casual-like. Maybe she could have taken it.
Then she could have pretended that he was just a friend. A friend with potential side-benefits, but still just a friend. Someone she could hold at arms’ length. Because it would be so easy to let him in. And she didn’t see that ending in any good way.
She spotted Sam long before he was out of the gate. He easily towered over the other passengers. He paused at the terminal as he scanned the crowd. She felt a little thrill of satisfaction as his eyes skimmed right past her.
“Sam,” she waved.
Sam turned to her, and raised his eyebrows in surprise. She dipped her head self-consciously under the hat.
“Jo?” he asked as he took in the disguise - complete with black sundress and silver sandals. “You look different.”
“I’m in disguise,” she smiled through her discomfort as she led him to the baggage claim. His duffle and satchel were waiting for him there. He added them to the leather bag that his laptop rode in, and then followed her toward the exit.
Once they stowed his gear in the trunk of her borrowed ‘78 Thunderbird, she produced a couple of knives to replace the ones that he had left behind in Lawrence.
“Remember how Mike arranged my flight to Branson? He used fairee money to pay for it. I haven’t exactly been welcome around here since then.”
“That explains the glasses.” Sam reached up, and carefully pulled them from her face. “They hide most of your looks.”
He leaned in, and Jo held her breath - half in anticipation of being kissed, half in trepidation.
Sam must have sensed her reluctance, because instead of kissing her, he simply rested his head against hers. She closed her eyes as disappointment and relief both flooded her.
“So - We have some stuff to talk about,” Sam said.
Jo nodded. She considered passing him the keys. He was taller, and if he drove, then he wouldn’t have to ride with his knees around his ears. But - She shook her head and gripped her keys firmly. Maybe it was selfish, but she didn’t want to turn the car over. Not to anyone.
Sam took his place in the passenger seat without complaint. The two of them said very little as Jo navigated the car out of the parking lot and steered toward West Memphis.
***
Sam watched Jo out of the corner of his eye with a heavy heart. He’d been excited at the prospect of seeing his pretty friend and had hoped that she felt the same way.
But the owner of the Memphis area roadhouse had been twitchy from moment one. Almost reluctant to see him.
He sighed, and turned to stare out the window as they crossed the Mississippi river back into West Memphis. “You need to know what went down in Lawrence.”
“I’m just glad to hear that you went,” she said. “I’m still trying to figure out why you didn’t just haul-ass out of there the second the job was finished.”
Sam shrugged. “I was waiting for Dean to come to grips with it.”
“What’s up with that?” Jo said. “I get that he was a little shaken up by what happened to Chloe. Hell, I was shaken up, and I watched it happen.”
“What did happen?” Sam asked. “All Chloe said was that the kelpie looked like a shark, and it attacked her. We figured she got drug into the water.”
“She didn’t tell you? Figures,” Jo snorted. “What would Dean do?”
“After everything we’d been through, he’d want to end the hunt fast. So he’d find a way to get out to it - Oh no, she didn’t.”
“She did,” Jo nodded. “They’re like two sides of the same damn coin. And as far as I’m concerned, they deserve one another.
“There was a boat out on the point. The plan was to light up the lakebed, and then take pot shots at it when it went after her in the boat. It didn’t exactly go down that way and I haven’t felt particularly inclined to watch Jaws since then. And watching it go down moved my expiration date up by another year, I think.”
“We guessed that she’d been put in danger, coming back soaking wet, gun missing. I think it scared Dean.”
“And scared Dean goes into protective mode,” Jo surmised. “Which in Dean-ese means that he tells you nothing and tries to deal with it on his own.”
“We made it to Lawrence, eventually,” Sam said. “Just me and Dean. And before you ask -- Chloe split for Metropolis dealing with some personal issues. That’s why Dean isn’t with me. He went out there to convince her to come back with him.”
“Any luck?” Jo asked.
“I’ll know when he calls me,” Sam shrugged. “Although it’s a good sign that he hasn’t called yet: maybe when he showed up on her doorstep looking pathetic, she didn’t kick him out right away.”
“So what happened in Lawrence?”
“The demon got out,” Sam said tonelessly.
Jo inhaled sharply - no doubt remembering the last time she’d encountered that particular demon.
Sam wished he could break the news gently. But it was better this way - like a band-aid. “Before it took off, it gave Dean a hit-list. First Chloe, then Bobby, then your mom, then you and ending with me. That’s the reason I flew out here alone, instead of going to Metropolis with Dean. We can cover more ground if we split up.”
“And you totally bypassed Bobby and Mom to come out here and see me?” Jo cocked an eyebrow at him.
“Your mom and Bobby both have a lot more experience with this kind of thing than any of us do,” Sam said. “I wanted to come out here and help you get the bar secured. That way, if it does try to come after you, it’s not going to have an easy time of it.”
“That’s sweet of you, Sam,” she said with a sigh. “But I do have a whole bar full of hunters on a nightly basis. I’m sure that I’m pretty safe.”
“Maybe,” Sam said. “But most hunters stick with salt lines and cold iron. Things like Devil’s traps and Mandaic Amulets take a little bit of skill. Bobby drilled that stuff into our heads after the first time that demon possessed me. This way - I know it’s done right.
“Also,” he shot her an apologetic look. The way the first Harvelle’s roadhouse was leveled was still a sore spot with the Harvelle family. “I don’t want a repeat of what happened to the place your dad built.”
Jo jerked as if he’d stabbed her with one of the silver knives that she’d handed him.
“You think things are going to get that bad?” she asked quietly.
Sam nodded solemnly. “I think things are going to get much worse. What we’ve had this past couple of years? It’s just the calm before the storm.
“Back in that cemetery where we killed the demon that killed my parents? Hundreds of demons escaped that night. Ever since then, the only thing that has kept them from wreaking major havoc has been that they spend more time fighting each other than causing trouble for humans.
“But now that the demon general is loose, they have something to rally around. Once she gets them organized, we’re going to have on our hands the war that the Yellow-Eyed Demon wanted.”
“Shit,” Jo cursed under her breath. “That damn thing is still a pain in the ass. Even after Dean obliterated it.”
“We never really expected Meg to stay locked away in its prison forever,” Sam said. “Our best hope was to get as many of the demons sent back to hell as we could before the general got loose. As it was - we didn’t get as many as we hoped we would.”
“Don’t blame yourself,” Jo patted his hand. “You guys were a little distracted with saving Dean.”
“And then we took up with Chloe.”
“Which is a good thing,” Jo argued. “Because if you hadn’t then you wouldn’t have been able to guess one of the demon’s next moves.”
“Yeahbuwha?” Sam raised an eyebrow.
Jo gave him the kind of patient stare that reminded Sam of someone about to smack a particularly dense puppy with a newspaper.
“The Metahuman Rights Act? Hello? Remember the stuff we talked about when you guys came out to help me with the bar? Remember how Chloe thought that sooner or later, some … supernatural thing was going to reveal its presence to the world and demand equal billing next to the powered people?”
Sam smacked his forehead. “How the heck did I forget about that?”
“It’s been a fairly hectic couple of months,” Jo said. “But it is something to keep in mind. And - I’d make sure that Dean does everything he can to hang onto Chloe. Between her contacts and her platform, she’s positioned herself neatly to be an asset to our side.”
Sam shook his head. “I think you missed your calling, Jo.”
“Come again?” She tilted her head and gave him a sideways glance.
“You should have been in the military,” Sam said. “You would make an awesome tactician.”
“I’m sure I will,” Jo said grimly.
Summary: He had to figure out where they stood. Otherwise, they couldn't go forward
Author: pen37
Beta: Clarksmuse
Fandoms: Smallville/Supernatural/DCU
Characters: Chloe, Sam, Dean, Jo
Pairing:Chloe/Dean
Rating: G
This is a part of the Special Projects series. You can find the rest of the series here.
Written for the Crossovers100 challenge. Prompt #58 Dinner. The table is here.
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9a, Part 9b
Jo sat in the Memphis National Airport terminal under a big sun-hat and face-covering shades, looking more like a movie starlet than a hunter. She felt damn silly. These days she rarely wore anything fancier than an old pair of jeans.
But there was no one else to pick Sam up, and she didn’t want to be recognized as the one who had used fairee-money to purchase her last set of airline tickets.
She shifted uncomfortably under the wide-brimmed, hot hat, and tried not to fret. Sam had sounded worried when he called, asking her to pick him up.
If she wanted to be honest with herself, she wasn’t looking forward to seeing the younger Winchester brother.
Not this soon after he’d nearly been killed.
Not when the entire nerve-wracking trip to see him, she remembered how jumpy her mom used to get when dad was out hunting. And later - of her grief when he didn’t come back.
Seeing Sam lying there so still seemed to dredge up so many undesirable could-be’s. She’d done her time as a hunter - made her peace with her father’s metaphorical ghost. Did she really want to dredge all of that back up by dating another hunter?
And a Winchester, no less? Uncle John had been a special kind of crazy - even by hunter standards.
Most hunters found something else to do to keep themselves going. Dad had the bar. Uncle Bobby, the salvage yard. Even Pastor Jim had his church.
But all Uncle John ever did was hunt, and run the occasional con to keep gas in the tank and bullets in the guns. And Sam and Dean were cut from the same cloth. Intensely focused on the job - with little room for any kind of life that didn’t involve roaming.
Jo knew that wasn’t a life she wanted for herself. At the height of her hunting days, she’d still held down a job - the thing about tending bar was that you could always find a job. And it was nice, mindless work. Perfect for giving you time to puzzle out a case. And being both good at it and pretty meant that she’d always had the cash to cover gas and ammo, plus good tips to cover a bed somewhere and mac and cheese.
Now though, she had a roadhouse of her own - courtesy the seed money that her mom had been putting by against the day that she was ready for it. And having the bar gave her purpose beyond wasting demons and stubborn ghosts. She wasn’t about to give that up to go draggin-ass around the country. Even for someone as sweet as Sam.
So as much as she liked him and as cherished as he made her feel, she really wished that Sam wasn’t coming to see her right now.
Maybe - If he’d waited a month or two. Maybe then - if he’d come walking in and ordered a beer all casual-like. Maybe she could have taken it.
Then she could have pretended that he was just a friend. A friend with potential side-benefits, but still just a friend. Someone she could hold at arms’ length. Because it would be so easy to let him in. And she didn’t see that ending in any good way.
She spotted Sam long before he was out of the gate. He easily towered over the other passengers. He paused at the terminal as he scanned the crowd. She felt a little thrill of satisfaction as his eyes skimmed right past her.
“Sam,” she waved.
Sam turned to her, and raised his eyebrows in surprise. She dipped her head self-consciously under the hat.
“Jo?” he asked as he took in the disguise - complete with black sundress and silver sandals. “You look different.”
“I’m in disguise,” she smiled through her discomfort as she led him to the baggage claim. His duffle and satchel were waiting for him there. He added them to the leather bag that his laptop rode in, and then followed her toward the exit.
Once they stowed his gear in the trunk of her borrowed ‘78 Thunderbird, she produced a couple of knives to replace the ones that he had left behind in Lawrence.
“Remember how Mike arranged my flight to Branson? He used fairee money to pay for it. I haven’t exactly been welcome around here since then.”
“That explains the glasses.” Sam reached up, and carefully pulled them from her face. “They hide most of your looks.”
He leaned in, and Jo held her breath - half in anticipation of being kissed, half in trepidation.
Sam must have sensed her reluctance, because instead of kissing her, he simply rested his head against hers. She closed her eyes as disappointment and relief both flooded her.
“So - We have some stuff to talk about,” Sam said.
Jo nodded. She considered passing him the keys. He was taller, and if he drove, then he wouldn’t have to ride with his knees around his ears. But - She shook her head and gripped her keys firmly. Maybe it was selfish, but she didn’t want to turn the car over. Not to anyone.
Sam took his place in the passenger seat without complaint. The two of them said very little as Jo navigated the car out of the parking lot and steered toward West Memphis.
***
Sam watched Jo out of the corner of his eye with a heavy heart. He’d been excited at the prospect of seeing his pretty friend and had hoped that she felt the same way.
But the owner of the Memphis area roadhouse had been twitchy from moment one. Almost reluctant to see him.
He sighed, and turned to stare out the window as they crossed the Mississippi river back into West Memphis. “You need to know what went down in Lawrence.”
“I’m just glad to hear that you went,” she said. “I’m still trying to figure out why you didn’t just haul-ass out of there the second the job was finished.”
Sam shrugged. “I was waiting for Dean to come to grips with it.”
“What’s up with that?” Jo said. “I get that he was a little shaken up by what happened to Chloe. Hell, I was shaken up, and I watched it happen.”
“What did happen?” Sam asked. “All Chloe said was that the kelpie looked like a shark, and it attacked her. We figured she got drug into the water.”
“She didn’t tell you? Figures,” Jo snorted. “What would Dean do?”
“After everything we’d been through, he’d want to end the hunt fast. So he’d find a way to get out to it - Oh no, she didn’t.”
“She did,” Jo nodded. “They’re like two sides of the same damn coin. And as far as I’m concerned, they deserve one another.
“There was a boat out on the point. The plan was to light up the lakebed, and then take pot shots at it when it went after her in the boat. It didn’t exactly go down that way and I haven’t felt particularly inclined to watch Jaws since then. And watching it go down moved my expiration date up by another year, I think.”
“We guessed that she’d been put in danger, coming back soaking wet, gun missing. I think it scared Dean.”
“And scared Dean goes into protective mode,” Jo surmised. “Which in Dean-ese means that he tells you nothing and tries to deal with it on his own.”
“We made it to Lawrence, eventually,” Sam said. “Just me and Dean. And before you ask -- Chloe split for Metropolis dealing with some personal issues. That’s why Dean isn’t with me. He went out there to convince her to come back with him.”
“Any luck?” Jo asked.
“I’ll know when he calls me,” Sam shrugged. “Although it’s a good sign that he hasn’t called yet: maybe when he showed up on her doorstep looking pathetic, she didn’t kick him out right away.”
“So what happened in Lawrence?”
“The demon got out,” Sam said tonelessly.
Jo inhaled sharply - no doubt remembering the last time she’d encountered that particular demon.
Sam wished he could break the news gently. But it was better this way - like a band-aid. “Before it took off, it gave Dean a hit-list. First Chloe, then Bobby, then your mom, then you and ending with me. That’s the reason I flew out here alone, instead of going to Metropolis with Dean. We can cover more ground if we split up.”
“And you totally bypassed Bobby and Mom to come out here and see me?” Jo cocked an eyebrow at him.
“Your mom and Bobby both have a lot more experience with this kind of thing than any of us do,” Sam said. “I wanted to come out here and help you get the bar secured. That way, if it does try to come after you, it’s not going to have an easy time of it.”
“That’s sweet of you, Sam,” she said with a sigh. “But I do have a whole bar full of hunters on a nightly basis. I’m sure that I’m pretty safe.”
“Maybe,” Sam said. “But most hunters stick with salt lines and cold iron. Things like Devil’s traps and Mandaic Amulets take a little bit of skill. Bobby drilled that stuff into our heads after the first time that demon possessed me. This way - I know it’s done right.
“Also,” he shot her an apologetic look. The way the first Harvelle’s roadhouse was leveled was still a sore spot with the Harvelle family. “I don’t want a repeat of what happened to the place your dad built.”
Jo jerked as if he’d stabbed her with one of the silver knives that she’d handed him.
“You think things are going to get that bad?” she asked quietly.
Sam nodded solemnly. “I think things are going to get much worse. What we’ve had this past couple of years? It’s just the calm before the storm.
“Back in that cemetery where we killed the demon that killed my parents? Hundreds of demons escaped that night. Ever since then, the only thing that has kept them from wreaking major havoc has been that they spend more time fighting each other than causing trouble for humans.
“But now that the demon general is loose, they have something to rally around. Once she gets them organized, we’re going to have on our hands the war that the Yellow-Eyed Demon wanted.”
“Shit,” Jo cursed under her breath. “That damn thing is still a pain in the ass. Even after Dean obliterated it.”
“We never really expected Meg to stay locked away in its prison forever,” Sam said. “Our best hope was to get as many of the demons sent back to hell as we could before the general got loose. As it was - we didn’t get as many as we hoped we would.”
“Don’t blame yourself,” Jo patted his hand. “You guys were a little distracted with saving Dean.”
“And then we took up with Chloe.”
“Which is a good thing,” Jo argued. “Because if you hadn’t then you wouldn’t have been able to guess one of the demon’s next moves.”
“Yeahbuwha?” Sam raised an eyebrow.
Jo gave him the kind of patient stare that reminded Sam of someone about to smack a particularly dense puppy with a newspaper.
“The Metahuman Rights Act? Hello? Remember the stuff we talked about when you guys came out to help me with the bar? Remember how Chloe thought that sooner or later, some … supernatural thing was going to reveal its presence to the world and demand equal billing next to the powered people?”
Sam smacked his forehead. “How the heck did I forget about that?”
“It’s been a fairly hectic couple of months,” Jo said. “But it is something to keep in mind. And - I’d make sure that Dean does everything he can to hang onto Chloe. Between her contacts and her platform, she’s positioned herself neatly to be an asset to our side.”
Sam shook his head. “I think you missed your calling, Jo.”
“Come again?” She tilted her head and gave him a sideways glance.
“You should have been in the military,” Sam said. “You would make an awesome tactician.”
“I’m sure I will,” Jo said grimly.