5 Times Chloe Knew Dean Was In Love With Her - NC17 - Chloe/Dean - Part 2/5
Title: Five Times Chloe Knew Dean Was In Love With Her
Cateogory: Smallville/Supernatural [Crossover]
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Romance/Humor
Pairing: Chloe/Dean
Summary: Five instances where Chloe Sullivan knew Dean Winchester was completely in love with her.
Previous: Part I,
5 Times Chloe Knew Dean Was In Love With Her
2/5
II
There was an incessant ringing in the background that wouldn't quit. She blinked her eyes rapidly and rolled over onto her other side, pressing her face down into her pillow and sighing heavily. But it didn't stop and with each passing ring, she felt wakefulness prick at her senses. Finally, with a huff, she lifted up and reached for her phone, rolling over and blowing her hair out of her eyes with an annoyed sigh. "Hel-lo?" she made sure to say it in the most aggravated voice she could manage at... 12:02 am in the morning. Ugh! She'd been having a really, really good dream and this was not how it was supposed to end.
"Hey. You know, you might wanna try answering your phone the first three times a guy calls," replied a very familiar voice. One she'd just had growling in her ear in her previously very enjoyable dream.
"Sorry, Dean, I was only trying to sleep," she snarked. "You know what that is, don't you? It's what people do at twelve in the morning!"
He let out an insufferably low and sexy chuckle that made her toes curl beneath her blanket. She brushed that feeling off though because this was not a time to let his redeemable traits overpower her annoyance.
"Yeah, well... Not all of us work a nine to fiver, sweetheart."
She rolled her eyes. "You know, that excuse might work on someone who hasn't seen you sleep in ‘til three in the afternoon."
He snorted. "Whatever. What are you doing?"
She shook her head. "Currently? Laying in my bed, wishing I was sleeping."
She could practically feel his smirk. "Yeah... What are you wearing?"
She laughed. "Dean!"
"That's right... Yell it like you mean it."
She lifted a hand to her face, feeling it heat up beneath her palm. She was so thankful he wasn't here to actually see her blush. Hadn't he said something almost exactly like that in her dream? Weird coincidence...
"You're completely insane, you know that?"
"We all have our days," he said easily. "Wanna know what I'm wearing?"
She chuckled. "No," she said simply. She was pretty sure she already knew.
"You're no fun when you're tired."
"Well maybe if you hadn't woken me up unexpectedly at midnight, I'd be more interesting." She yawned, running a hand threw her tangled hair. "I've had a looong day." She let her eyes close and slid further down into her bed, pulling the comforter up. "Between Isis and this piece I've been working on, I feel like I'm constantly on auto-pilot..." She laughed rather sadly. "I don't even know what day it is today... I just knew I had to be at work... Because I'm always at work."
"You're a real downer, sometimes," he said honestly. "And it's Wednesday."
"Thank you," she muttered, rolling her eyes.
"The twelfth," he added.
"Helpful."
"Of November."
She rolled her eyes. "Okay, I get-" Her brows furrowed. "Wait a sec..." She sat up in her bed, head tipped to the side. "Oh my god... is it my birthday?"
"Ding, ding, ding," he replied nonchalantly.
Her lips curved in a smile. "That's why you called, isn't it?" She shook her head. "Dean... Did you wait until midnight so it would officially be my birthday?"
He cleared his throat. "No... That's just a very unusual coincidence," he assured. "I remembered when you brought up your workaholic ways and lack of memory."
"Hey! Some of us have like three jobs here, buddy. It's not all pie in diners and sleeping in ‘til three!"
She knew he was rolling his eyes. "One time."
"Yeah," she snorted. "Right."
"All right, so I sleep in most of the time. I'm up all night on a regular basis," he huffed. "And anyway, that's got nothing to do with this. You're officially like, what, thirteen now?"
She pursed her lips. He knew how old she was and from the way he often checked her out, there was no way he thought of her as some thirteen year old girl. "Twenty-four, thank you."
"Yeah, yeah," he muttered. He cleared his throat again and she could just imagine him scratching the back of his neck in discomfort. "So happy birthday."
She grinned. "You did call just to say that, didn't you?"
He sighed. "You don't think I have better things to do then wait around until midnight just to call you and say happy birthday?"
"Given the current circumstances... apparently not." She chuckled lightly.
"Yeah, well... I was bored and there was nothing but infomercials on... Sammy's snoring and I couldn't sleep," he listed. "So it had nothing to do with your birthday."
"All right, fine, you convinced me." Except he didn't. She glanced at the clock once more but she wasn't quite as sleepy as she'd been. "So... What are you wearing?" she teased.
He laughed. "Not much."
She shivered a little... His voice was just that one notch lower than usual and it was utterly sexy. "Yeah, well, you'll be disappointed to know I'm wearing a lot. Like full on flannel pants and long sleeved shirt," she said, nodding. She even had socks on... They were striped and very colorful and just enough to keep her toes warm. Maybe she should turn up the heat...
"Damn and here I thought the night was going to be so much more racy than flannel."
She smiled, shaking her head in amusement. "Yeah, well... Unfortunately my lace teddy is in the cleaners."
She could hear him shift around and he didn't reply right away. "Oh yeah? What color is it?"
She smirked. "Black."
He blew out a heavy breath. "If only it'd been red..."
She chuckled. "Yeah, yeah... So? What'd you get me for my birthday?"
"Isn't this phone call enough?" he replied purposely arrogant.
"Right, well, while your voice is so very appealing and talking to you is a gift in itself," she assured sarcastically. "You couldn't get me a nifty gun or something?"
He snorted. "All out of nifty birthday guns, sweetheart. But maybe next year."
She sighed overdramatically. "Fine, but it better be a big one."
He made a strangled noise and her brow furrowed.
"You okay over there?" she asked.
"Yeah." He cleared his throat. "Go, uh, go look in your closet. Top shelf, on the right."
She bit her lip, crawling out of bed and doing a little jig as the cold hair hit her abruptly. She blew out a breath and tip toed over to her bedroom closed. "Wait... Bedroom or hall closet?"
"Bedroom," he said simply.
Nodding, she stepped up and pulled the doors open, flicking the light on so she could see what she was doing. She wasn't nearly as tall as him so she had to stretch up and feel around blindly with her hand until she felt a box beneath her fingers and pulled it down. It wasn't wrapped and it didn't have any bows or anything on it, but it was wooden, like a jewelry box, and the top had an intricate design carved into it.
"Open it," he said quietly in her ear.
She didn't know how he knew, but she followed direction and lifted the top open, her eyes widening. She let out a tiny gasp, eyes widening. It was beautiful. Brown and orange beads made up the necklace, but at the very end was a diamond shaped glass pendant with whirls and swirls of pinks, ivory, green, and dark blue. It didn't look expensive or flashy, it was just... her.
She didn't know what to say. She drew it out of the box and walked to her dresser mirror to put it on. "Dean... It's beautiful."
"Yeah. Saw it some pawn shop..." He cleared his throat. "I carved a protection charm into the back, just to be sure. Now I don't always have to keep an eye on you."
She rolled her eyes, grinning as the necklace clasped at the nape of her neck and the pendant fell against her chest perfectly. She'd never take it off.
"Thank you," she said gently.
"Whatever, Blondie," he replied, playing the unconcerned part as usual. "Anyway, it's late. We're leaving town tomorrow; another day, another hunt."
She nodded. "Be careful."
He chuckled lowly. "Careful's my middle name."
She lifted a brow. "Who would've thought will all those scars and death certificates floating around," she muttered.
"Hey, I'm still here aren't I?" he snarked.
She sighed, nodding. "Yeah, well... Try to stick around tomorrow, too, huh?" she asked, masking the twinge of fear in her voice. She was used to these hunts; didn't stop her gut from hollowing out until she got the call letting her know they were fine. She waited on pins and needles every time and he rarely disappointed her.
"You know I will," he replied strongly. "Now get to bed, it's like midnight. Normal people are sleeping right now."
She snorted. "Imagine that..."
He let out a breathy chuckle. "Night, Chlo."
She flicked the light off and crawled into her bed, her hand falling to her necklace. "Goodnight, Dean."
She grinned into the darkness, even as the dial tone filled her ear before she hit the end button. There were few moments in her life where she felt truly loved, cared for and wanted. But this was definitely one of those moments. She closed her eyes and fell asleep, her smile still in place.
[ Next: Part III.]
In Proper Order: [ Next.]
Cateogory: Smallville/Supernatural [Crossover]
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Romance/Humor
Pairing: Chloe/Dean
Summary: Five instances where Chloe Sullivan knew Dean Winchester was completely in love with her.
Previous: Part I,
5 Times Chloe Knew Dean Was In Love With Her
2/5
II
There was an incessant ringing in the background that wouldn't quit. She blinked her eyes rapidly and rolled over onto her other side, pressing her face down into her pillow and sighing heavily. But it didn't stop and with each passing ring, she felt wakefulness prick at her senses. Finally, with a huff, she lifted up and reached for her phone, rolling over and blowing her hair out of her eyes with an annoyed sigh. "Hel-lo?" she made sure to say it in the most aggravated voice she could manage at... 12:02 am in the morning. Ugh! She'd been having a really, really good dream and this was not how it was supposed to end.
"Hey. You know, you might wanna try answering your phone the first three times a guy calls," replied a very familiar voice. One she'd just had growling in her ear in her previously very enjoyable dream.
"Sorry, Dean, I was only trying to sleep," she snarked. "You know what that is, don't you? It's what people do at twelve in the morning!"
He let out an insufferably low and sexy chuckle that made her toes curl beneath her blanket. She brushed that feeling off though because this was not a time to let his redeemable traits overpower her annoyance.
"Yeah, well... Not all of us work a nine to fiver, sweetheart."
She rolled her eyes. "You know, that excuse might work on someone who hasn't seen you sleep in ‘til three in the afternoon."
He snorted. "Whatever. What are you doing?"
She shook her head. "Currently? Laying in my bed, wishing I was sleeping."
She could practically feel his smirk. "Yeah... What are you wearing?"
She laughed. "Dean!"
"That's right... Yell it like you mean it."
She lifted a hand to her face, feeling it heat up beneath her palm. She was so thankful he wasn't here to actually see her blush. Hadn't he said something almost exactly like that in her dream? Weird coincidence...
"You're completely insane, you know that?"
"We all have our days," he said easily. "Wanna know what I'm wearing?"
She chuckled. "No," she said simply. She was pretty sure she already knew.
"You're no fun when you're tired."
"Well maybe if you hadn't woken me up unexpectedly at midnight, I'd be more interesting." She yawned, running a hand threw her tangled hair. "I've had a looong day." She let her eyes close and slid further down into her bed, pulling the comforter up. "Between Isis and this piece I've been working on, I feel like I'm constantly on auto-pilot..." She laughed rather sadly. "I don't even know what day it is today... I just knew I had to be at work... Because I'm always at work."
"You're a real downer, sometimes," he said honestly. "And it's Wednesday."
"Thank you," she muttered, rolling her eyes.
"The twelfth," he added.
"Helpful."
"Of November."
She rolled her eyes. "Okay, I get-" Her brows furrowed. "Wait a sec..." She sat up in her bed, head tipped to the side. "Oh my god... is it my birthday?"
"Ding, ding, ding," he replied nonchalantly.
Her lips curved in a smile. "That's why you called, isn't it?" She shook her head. "Dean... Did you wait until midnight so it would officially be my birthday?"
He cleared his throat. "No... That's just a very unusual coincidence," he assured. "I remembered when you brought up your workaholic ways and lack of memory."
"Hey! Some of us have like three jobs here, buddy. It's not all pie in diners and sleeping in ‘til three!"
She knew he was rolling his eyes. "One time."
"Yeah," she snorted. "Right."
"All right, so I sleep in most of the time. I'm up all night on a regular basis," he huffed. "And anyway, that's got nothing to do with this. You're officially like, what, thirteen now?"
She pursed her lips. He knew how old she was and from the way he often checked her out, there was no way he thought of her as some thirteen year old girl. "Twenty-four, thank you."
"Yeah, yeah," he muttered. He cleared his throat again and she could just imagine him scratching the back of his neck in discomfort. "So happy birthday."
She grinned. "You did call just to say that, didn't you?"
He sighed. "You don't think I have better things to do then wait around until midnight just to call you and say happy birthday?"
"Given the current circumstances... apparently not." She chuckled lightly.
"Yeah, well... I was bored and there was nothing but infomercials on... Sammy's snoring and I couldn't sleep," he listed. "So it had nothing to do with your birthday."
"All right, fine, you convinced me." Except he didn't. She glanced at the clock once more but she wasn't quite as sleepy as she'd been. "So... What are you wearing?" she teased.
He laughed. "Not much."
She shivered a little... His voice was just that one notch lower than usual and it was utterly sexy. "Yeah, well, you'll be disappointed to know I'm wearing a lot. Like full on flannel pants and long sleeved shirt," she said, nodding. She even had socks on... They were striped and very colorful and just enough to keep her toes warm. Maybe she should turn up the heat...
"Damn and here I thought the night was going to be so much more racy than flannel."
She smiled, shaking her head in amusement. "Yeah, well... Unfortunately my lace teddy is in the cleaners."
She could hear him shift around and he didn't reply right away. "Oh yeah? What color is it?"
She smirked. "Black."
He blew out a heavy breath. "If only it'd been red..."
She chuckled. "Yeah, yeah... So? What'd you get me for my birthday?"
"Isn't this phone call enough?" he replied purposely arrogant.
"Right, well, while your voice is so very appealing and talking to you is a gift in itself," she assured sarcastically. "You couldn't get me a nifty gun or something?"
He snorted. "All out of nifty birthday guns, sweetheart. But maybe next year."
She sighed overdramatically. "Fine, but it better be a big one."
He made a strangled noise and her brow furrowed.
"You okay over there?" she asked.
"Yeah." He cleared his throat. "Go, uh, go look in your closet. Top shelf, on the right."
She bit her lip, crawling out of bed and doing a little jig as the cold hair hit her abruptly. She blew out a breath and tip toed over to her bedroom closed. "Wait... Bedroom or hall closet?"
"Bedroom," he said simply.
Nodding, she stepped up and pulled the doors open, flicking the light on so she could see what she was doing. She wasn't nearly as tall as him so she had to stretch up and feel around blindly with her hand until she felt a box beneath her fingers and pulled it down. It wasn't wrapped and it didn't have any bows or anything on it, but it was wooden, like a jewelry box, and the top had an intricate design carved into it.
"Open it," he said quietly in her ear.
She didn't know how he knew, but she followed direction and lifted the top open, her eyes widening. She let out a tiny gasp, eyes widening. It was beautiful. Brown and orange beads made up the necklace, but at the very end was a diamond shaped glass pendant with whirls and swirls of pinks, ivory, green, and dark blue. It didn't look expensive or flashy, it was just... her.
She didn't know what to say. She drew it out of the box and walked to her dresser mirror to put it on. "Dean... It's beautiful."
"Yeah. Saw it some pawn shop..." He cleared his throat. "I carved a protection charm into the back, just to be sure. Now I don't always have to keep an eye on you."
She rolled her eyes, grinning as the necklace clasped at the nape of her neck and the pendant fell against her chest perfectly. She'd never take it off.
"Thank you," she said gently.
"Whatever, Blondie," he replied, playing the unconcerned part as usual. "Anyway, it's late. We're leaving town tomorrow; another day, another hunt."
She nodded. "Be careful."
He chuckled lowly. "Careful's my middle name."
She lifted a brow. "Who would've thought will all those scars and death certificates floating around," she muttered.
"Hey, I'm still here aren't I?" he snarked.
She sighed, nodding. "Yeah, well... Try to stick around tomorrow, too, huh?" she asked, masking the twinge of fear in her voice. She was used to these hunts; didn't stop her gut from hollowing out until she got the call letting her know they were fine. She waited on pins and needles every time and he rarely disappointed her.
"You know I will," he replied strongly. "Now get to bed, it's like midnight. Normal people are sleeping right now."
She snorted. "Imagine that..."
He let out a breathy chuckle. "Night, Chlo."
She flicked the light off and crawled into her bed, her hand falling to her necklace. "Goodnight, Dean."
She grinned into the darkness, even as the dial tone filled her ear before she hit the end button. There were few moments in her life where she felt truly loved, cared for and wanted. But this was definitely one of those moments. She closed her eyes and fell asleep, her smile still in place.
[ Next: Part III.]
In Proper Order: [ Next.]