New fic: Those Three Words (1/?)
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
Feedback is muchly appreciated and needed: good, bad, and ugly... This has been a blast to write with my co-author and I hope y'all enjoy this!
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Chapter One
"What the hell was Dad thinking?" Dean grumbled to himself as he watched another finely shaped woman pass his table. The smoke was so thick in this bar, it was a wonder he could see anything. And if it wasn't for all the weird crap Sammy had told him about going on in this hellhole called Cleveland, they sure wouldn't have picked this place. Dean took another long swallow of the local beer -- tasting more like battery acid in his mouth -- and spotted another blonde hottie in a strapless dress pass his table. He seriously contemplated forgetting the mission, the coordinates, and even his father for an evening of pleasure.
Something stopped him, though. It wasn't Sam: he was holed up in their dingy hotel room, tired as all hell from the long drive and what he claimed was Dean's incessant "noise". No, whatever it was, kept his butt firmly planted in his seat. "What now?" he mumbled, scanning the room, seeing nothing until he laid eyes on 'her'.
Her senses were on red alert as she sat alone at the small table in the back of the bar. The smoke was thick though she supposed very few of the bar's inhabitants were at risk at developing lung cancer. She finished the virgin Bloody Mary she'd ordered and rose to her feet, well aware of how many eyes were on her as she headed for the door slowly. Lifting her chin, she drew in a breath. Here we go, she thought.
Dean watched a short, voluptuous, confident blonde stand up and slowly walk across the room. Power oozed out of her like a drug, nailing him to his seat with her mere presence. Who was this chick? he wondered, mesmerized by her careful yet obvious stride across the room. As if she knew she was being watched. He scanned the rest of the dank, smelly room and found the rest of the matrons had quieted down, their focus solely on her as she paused at the front door before opening it and leaving. But it was watching a handful of the largest men around leave quickly on her heels that made him jump up and follow her. "Always gotta be savin' the girls," he thought with a wry smile.
She didn't even make it five steps out the door before the first one leapt at her. She spun around, kicking him back against the side of the building and falling into a defensive posture as the others stood in shock.
"Slayer," one of the others hissed, his eyes darkening.
Storming out the door, he heard one of the men call the blonde "Slayer". And he didn't figure it had anything to do with the band. "What's going on here, guys?" he said brashly, taking one look at the men's faces and realizing they weren't men at all. The fangs said everything: vamps. He reached for his knife, ready to fight when he watched the blonde not only dropkick the one who had been against the wall, but do some funky karate move he had no name for. All he knew was that, within seconds, two of them had disappeared in a cloud of smoke. The girl, holding a stake in her hand, shot him a look that said she could handle it, but as he grabbed the third vamp, he figured she'd need help anyways.
She raised an eyebrow at him, grimacing a little when the vamp threw him back against the wall. "Just stay back," she told him, spinning once more and landing a well-placed kick against the vampire's chest, sending him sprawling on the ground. She placed her foot in the middle of his chest and brought the stake down to his heart swiftly. "You all right?" she asked, aware of the final vampire sneaking up behind her.
"Yea, I'm fine, sweetheart," he called, pulling himself off the wall to try to attack the last vamp. "Just not gonna take it lying down, ok?" Whipping out his knife, he attacked the last vamp from behind, stabbing the knife into the creature's neck and dragging it to the ground. Just in time for the blonde to drive a stake through its heart. It dissolved into dust, making him cough up a lung and pissed as hell. "Hey, that was mine to take down, dammit!" he yelled, pissed that a woman had beaten him out of a good killing.
"You mean like that last one that probably cracked a rib when it threw you against a brick wall?" she asked wryly.
He hid the wince at the scorching pain that flared across his chest as he stood up and stared at her. "That was just a warm up," she replied sarcastically. "Don't you think you're in a little over your pretty little head?"
She lifted an eyebrow. "Why? Did I look like I was in distress?" she asked, matching his sarcasm.
"You could have been kabobbed by that vamp creeping up behind you if it wasn't for me," he snapped back. "No need to thank me, not unless you want to." He turned on the Winchester charm, throwing her his best grin and knowing most women couldn't handle it.
Clearly not impressed, she rolled her eyes. "Whatever."
"Right back atcha," he murmured and started to go back into the bar. But something stopped him, because he suddenly turned around and said, "How the hell did you take those vamps out?" When she eyed him again warily, he persisted. "Oh come on, seriously. I've never seen fighting like that before."
She shrugged. "Experience." She studied him for a moment. "And who are you? Because people I know would run away screaming if they saw a vampire."
"Do I look like the screaming type, lady?" he demanded, crossing his arms, offended by the thought that he would run from something as stupid as a freaking vampire.
She smirked. "Do you really want me to answer that?"
Dean shrugged. "Experience, sweetheart. Just like you. I know what goes bump in the night."
"I bet," she said, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "See ya." She turned and headed toward her red VW bug that was parked beside a very nice black 67 Chevy Impala.
Glancing at the door to the bar, Dean looked at the blonde head towards his car and instantly forgot why he had been there to begin with. He had to keep tabs on this girl, he thought. She was something to contend with. "Like the car, huh?" he asked casually, making his way towards it just as she reached the other side. He figured the Bug belonged to her but wanted to keep her talking. Maybe he'd even get her name and number before the evening was through.
She tilted her head a little, wondering who the hell this guy was. "Good year for Chevy's," she remarked casually.
He snorted in laughter. "Good? Hell, the year for Chevys. But it figures. Coming from someone who drives... that" he waved a hand towards her car "you wouldn't really know."
She raised an eyebrow. He had her there. She knew very little about cars. "It's not exactly important in the grand scheme of things."
"Depends on your scheme," he replied, getting in and unlocking the passenger door. "Get in. I'll take you for a spin in it." He pushed the car door open and waited. And waited. And when she didn't move a muscle, he ducked down to look at her. Damn, she had some hot legs, he thought. "Come on!"
"I think I'll pass," she replied, surprised at the part of herself that actually wanted to get in the car. Because getting in cars with a complete stranger--no matter how hot said stranger was--was generally not a smart idea. Not that he could actually hurt her.
"What, you afraid or something?" he asked, daring her to make any kind of move. "You just took out a bunch of vamps and you're scared to get into a car with a guy?" He snorted in derision. "Figures. You women, you're all the same."
"I can pretty much guarantee you I'm not like anyone you've ever met," she said sharply.
"Really? Because you look like just a hot blonde girl," he replied with a sarcastic tone. "How does that make you any different?" He stared up at her, taken in by the glint in her sparkling eyes and the way her clothing fit her too well for the imagination, willing her to get into the car.
Growing annoyed, she moved so she was standing beside the driver's side of his car, her hands resting on the window. "You know any other girl who can take out five vamps in two minutes?"
"As a matter of fact... I don't." Admit it, she's got you there, he thought. "God, can I just get your name and number in case my brother and I run into a nest of vamps while we're here?" She was actually unlike anyone he'd ever met, and if she didn't want to spend more time with him, then fine. But at least he should be able to get something out of this encounter.
She was silent for a moment, then she moved to open her car door, hearing him sigh. She yanked her purse out of the passenger seat and pulled out a business card with her name and cell number on it. Drawing in a breath, she turned and handed it to him. "Stay outta trouble. And if you're not from around here...I wouldn't stay long." There was a hint of warning in her voice.
Dean quickly scanned the card: Chloe Sullivan. Pretty name, he thought, though he sure as hell wouldn't tell her that. "Chloe, huh?" he said, looking up at her. "Well...Chloe... I'm not from around here, but I have things to do in this town, so I'll be seeing ya." He watched her frown increase, prompting him to ask, "What?"
"Nothing. Just don't say I didn't try to warn you." Without waiting for him to respond, she turned and headed around to the driver's side of her car.
"Hang on a second!" he called, getting out of the Impala and making a beeline for her. "What are you not telling me here? I can feel the evil **** in the air. What's here to kill?" He grabbed her arm and swung her around to face him, only to be pushed back against his car brutally. "Hey, watch out for the paintjob!" he complained.
"Don't grab me," she warned, her eyes dark.
"Then just give me the info I'm looking for, dammit," he threatened back. She might be sexy, but she was the most hardheaded woman he'd ever met.
"Fine." She offered him a grim smile. "You're standing on the mouth of hell. Happy now?"
Dean threw her a mocking smile and snorted. "What does a girl know about the mouth of hell? What do you know about hell, for that matter?" He'd seen his fair share of demons, monsters, and all manner of creatures to make even the most courageous person run for the hills. That this mere slip of a girl might have faced it secretly humbled him.
"More than I hope anyone else ever has to find out," she said honestly.
"Huh, something you and I have in common," he told her and then stuck out his hand. "I'm Dean. I hunt the things that go bump in the night."
Chloe was silent for a moment, then she slid her hand into his. "With your brother?"
Dean nodded solemnly. "He's only been hunting with me for about a year, but I've been doing it all my life. You?" He held onto her hand a fraction longer than he probably should have, their touching shaking him deep down where nothing touched him.
The electricity in the touch wasn't lost on her either, but she swallowed hard and ignored it for the time being. "About six months." The surprise on his face made her smile very faintly.
"Wait, six months and you fought like... that?" he asked, letting his eyes wander down her well-muscled body. He looked around, noticing the shadows moving and his hunter senses on high alert. "Look, can we go grab a cup of coffee or something? Not a good idea to stand out here talking shop when I see things out to get us." God, please say yes, he thought to himself.
The hair on the back of her neck rose and she slowly turned to survey their surroundings. They were definitely being watched. And it wasn't by vampires. Her eyes narrowed as she stood perfectly still. "Good idea."
Dean opened the passenger side of the Impala. "Get in, I'll drive." When she threw him an impatient look, he demanded, "Hey, this baby can move a helluva lot faster than your bucket of bolts, so get into the car." He stood still, not moving until she acquiesced.
Throwing him another annoyed look, she reluctantly moved around and climbed into the passenger seat of his car.
"Finally," he replied, swinging the door behind her and racing across to the driver’s side, getting in and turning the engine over. The Impala purred as he slammed the car into gear and took off before the shadows took form. Fortunately Dean remembered a local coffee dive just minutes from the bar, so they said nothing else until they were seated at the coffee shop, hot coffee in hand. "So, tell me how it is you can fight like you did?" he said as casually as possible. The blonde beauty sitting across from him, he noticed, had incredibly intelligent and sharp eyes that seemed to see right through him.
Chloe gazed at him for a long moment, her gut telling her that despite his cocky arrogance, he was a good guy. "How long you been doing this?" she asked, her voice quiet.
Dean was silent for several moments, wondering how far into his life he was willing to give her. "Since me and my brother Sammy were kids," he muttered, shrugging it off as not a big deal. Leaning closer across the table, he looked at Chloe sternly. "You still didn't answer my question. Chloe."
She leaned a little across the table. "You ever heard of a Vampire Slayer?"
"A.... what?" he asked, clearly having no idea what she was talking about. "What the hell is a vampire slayer?" he demanded, taking a swig of his coffee and wishing suddenly for some bourbon in it.
Chloe glared at him. "Keep your voice down. I already have enough enemies in this town, thank you." Letting out a breath, she glanced around, then looked at him again. "A Vampire Slayer. One girl in the entire world who's blessed or cursed depending on how you look at it, with the strength and skill to fight the vampires and rid the world of their evil plague on humanity."
For several moments, Dean stared at her as if she had lost her mind. "You're... you're kidding me, right?" he whispered in response, leaning further in to talk to her, though the scent of her body assaulted his senses and nearly sent him reeling. "You're this... girl?"
She managed a faint, wry smile. "Give the man a prize." She sat back against the booth, picking her cup of coffee up and taking a drink.
"Gee, thanks," he remarked smartly, taking another sip of his coffee. "So you're the pro, tell me what the deal is in this hellhole of a city."
"Hellhole's a pretty accurate word. Cleveland is literally located on a gateway to hell. Spike calls it a Hellmouth."
Dean did a double take, nearly spitting out his coffee. "Spike? What is a Spike?" His confused look must have amused her, because she grinned broadly at him. "Sure, laugh it up, why don't you?" he snarked. "I've never heard of this crap before." Sammy should really be here, he thought briefly.
"Spike is a friend," she said in amusement. "A friend who knows a whole lot about this kind of crap."
"Uh huh," he replied, not convinced that anything she was saying was real. In fact, had it not been for the fact that he'd seen her kick some serious vampire ass, he would've thought she was just another girl. "Whatever. So what is this Hellmouth, anyway? Gonna let me in on your secret little club or what?"
She drew in a breath and let it out slowly, the smile fading from her face. "The Hellmouth is literally what it sounds like. A gateway to hell. Mystical forces converge here, bad sh*t happens. Most towns have a vamp or two, or maybe a ghost. Hellmouths have it all. Vampires, demons, you name it, it's here. And in abundance."
Rubbing his hands together, Dean couldn't help but laugh out loud with glee. "Hell, then I'm in the right place. I knew Dad wouldn't send us to this place without a reason!" She glared at him again, throwing him a 'shut the hell up' look, causing him to back off just a little bit. "Heh, I love killing things. Seems like a good place to do it." He stretched a little, noticing her attention drawn to the movement of his chest. He grinned. "So how do we get rid of this Hellmouth thing?"
"There's no 'we'," Chloe said flatly, feeling her defenses begin to rise for more than one reason. "I work alone."
"Sorry, darlin'," he replied, finishing his coffee and putting down the empty mug. "You know about this thing, and I know Sammy and me were sent here to destroy this thing. Work alone or not, you're stuck with us."
Her eyes darkened. "You don't get it, do you?" Not giving him a chance to respond, she leaned a little closer once more. "You think this is a quick thing? It's not. It's long-term. Years."
"So having Sammy and me with you can make years more like months," Dean shrugged in response. Though deep down he realized he liked the idea of hanging around here, with her, for months. "What's the big deal?" he continued when she shook her head in denial.
"I'm not gonna be responsible for your safety. I don't need people in the way." She didn't intend for her words to be harsh, but that's how they came out anyway.
"Sweetheart," he countered, moving closer to her, his hands gripping the table to keep a sudden burst of anger under control, "I am responsible for me. Get that straight now." Leaning back and resuming his nonchalant slouch, he shrugged. "Besides, you'll need me when it's all said and done.... in the way. Whatever, dude."
Chloe gritted her teeth in frustration. "I wanna meet your brother." Maybe she could talk some sense into him.
Standing up and throwing down money for the coffee and the tip, Dean laughed softly in his throat. "Sure. We'll go meet Sammy. He'll make you see the light." He stood there, waiting for her to get up and lead the way.
Somehow, she thought. I doubt that. Drawing in a breath, she rose to her feet and headed out the door.
Dean followed her, thinking her confident yet feminine stride was just as effective from behind.
As they got back into the Impala and Dean screeched out of the parking lot, it occurred to him that he really didn't know why Dad had led Sammy and him here. Just a couple coordinates and something about trouble in Cleveland. That was it. Looking at Chloe from out the corner of his eye, he muttered something about Sammy being awake and smacking some sense into this girl. Something Chloe had apparently heard.
She glowered at him. "I dare you to try, Dean. I really do."
"What?" he snarked back. "You afraid to try?"
"Being smacked?"
Rolling his eyes while keeping them on the road, he mumbled, "In your dreams, honey."
For such a beautiful woman, he thought, she really did have a smart mouth. He was never more thankful to get to their hotel. Pulling into a parking space, he put the car into park and shut off the ignition. "So, here we are," he casually remarked. He saw the light on and knew Sam was still up. "And Sammy's still awake."
"Good. Hopefully your brother isn't as much a pain in the ass as you," she said with a smirk, heading up to the door and knocking lightly.
Dean said nothing but followed her, watching with an amused smile as she knocked.
Inside the hotel room, Sam Winchester had been studying his dad's journal, attempting to piece together how the coordinates Dad had texted to Dean could collide with whatever evil he had researched here. So the sharp knock on the door shocked him out of his intense studying.
He opened the door and found a short, pretty blonde standing there, a glower on her face. With Dean behind her, winking at Sammy like he was about to get lucky. Glaring at his brother, he looked at the girl. "Hello?" he asked.
She smiled at Sam. "I believe this belongs to you." She motioned behind her to Dean. "If you'd kindly keep him, I'd appreciate it."
Sam smirked at the girl. "Who, him? Never seen him before." He flashed another smirk at Dean and laughed.
"Sammy, don't be stupid," Dean grumbled. "Let her in. I think she's got some info on what we're looking for." He stared down his brother, ready to strike out if Sam was going to play cute again, but surprisingly, Sam nodded and stepped back, letting them inside.
Once the door closed, Sam immediately launched into a tirade. "Where the hell have you been, Dean? I'm studying and you're playing? What's up with that?"
Dean threw him a look that told him to shut the hell up before pointing to Chloe. "Sam, this is Chloe. Chloe, this is Sam. Apparently she can kill vamps."
Chloe shot Dean a glare and folded her arms across her chest. "Nice to meet you, Sam."
"You too, Chloe," Sam replied, hesitated for a second, then said, "Wait, you came here... with Dean?" He looked at his older brother in dismay. Oh, this can't be good, he thought. "So you kill... vampires? How do you know that, Dean?" This last question was directed at his brother.
Dean glared at him and scooted around Chloe to grab whatever was in the mini-fridge to drink. "I helped her take a bunch out at that bar you didn't want to hang out in."
"Yeah, but that's because I knew your mind was on... other things." He glanced over at Chloe, who stood there watching them and inwardly laughing, probably. Her twinkling eyes seemed to suggest that.
"You sure have a way with radically interpreting events, don't you?" Chloe asked with a smirk as she raised an eyebrow at Dean, then looked at Sam. "What actually happened was I saved your brother's ass when a vamp threw him into a brick wall."
Sam threw his head back and laughed. "And you saved his sorry butt?" he asked Chloe while looking at Dean. "You mean to tell me a vamp beat you up?"
Dean glowered at his brother. "Shut the hell up, Sammy. You know I could have handled those vamps myself if Blondie hadn't gotten in the way."
"Uh huh. All five of them?" She raised her eyebrows, her arms still folded across her chest.
"Hell yeah, baby," he drawled lazily, leaning against the wall. "I got all kinds of skills." His gaze held hers steadily, the electricity and friction popping between them like lightening.
Sensing the tension, Sam hit his brother. "Hey, be nice, okay?" He offered Chloe a seat and sat down on the edge of his bed. "So I understand you may be able to help us with the thing we're hunting?"
Chloe sat down in the chair he offered her, focusing on the younger brother. "And what thing would that be?" she asked.
"Funny thing about that," Sam replied, looking down and over at the numbers their father had left. "We don't... exactly know yet. But according to these coordinates, we're definitely in the right place."
Dean rolled his eyes and focused on Sam. "That's all you got, Sammy? A headache and the knowledge that we're in the right place? What about Dad's journal?" He took a step towards his brother, irritated he hadn't found more.
"Well, unlike some people," Sam commented, glaring at Dean, "I'm still getting used to the whole demon-hunting, guess-what-Dad's-thinking game." He looked at Chloe and smiled shyly at her. "So, since you're a demon hunter yourself, what are you hunting?"
She offered him a smile in return. "I'm not a demon hunter...exactly." She shot Dean a warning look to keep his mouth shut. "I pretty much hunt whatever's causing trouble at the time. Which, here...can be any number of things."
Sam folded his hands, intrigued by what she was telling her. "But... no offense or anything... you're just a girl. Isn't that kind of -- dangerous?"
Dean laughed at his brother's words. "Yeah, that's what I said to her, and she about bit my head off for it." He would have said more but Chloe's glittering, nearly dangerous eyes stopped him.
Chloe's gaze traveled back to Sam. He wasn't being an annoying smartass like Dean, he seemed genuinely curious. Concerned even. A smile tugged at her lips but she shrugged. "Dangerous? Yeah. But it's dangerous for you too," she pointed out.
Sam smiled at Chloe, who seemed genuinely concerned for their well-being. Touching but highly unusual. "Yeah, well, dangerous, yes. But it's what we're doing to help Dad. It's... a thing." He shrugged and gave her a look that told her to not ask anything about it.
Dean was getting impatient with this line of questioning, especially when he wasn't involved directly in it. Throwing himself down beside his brother, he slapped his hands together and said, "So, who's up for kicking some vamp ass? I figure, if Blondie here was fighting them, then Dad must have sent us here to hunt down some nests, right?"
Sam looked at Dean and sighed. "Not necessarily, Dean. Personally, I think it's more than just vamps. This place just feels... evil. Look at today's newspaper: full of murders, unexplained stuff, the obits are a mile long... How do you explain that?" His last question was directed at Chloe, because he believed she knew something about it.
"Welcome to the Hellmouth," she said grimly, her eyes dark with untold emotions. Before she could say anymore, her cell phone rang and she snatched it off her jeans where it was clipped on. "What is it, Spike?" she asked, turning her back to the guys and moving away a little.
"We got trouble at the docks," Spike's gruff voice drawled.
Drawing in a breath, she nodded slightly. "I'm on it." She hung up the phone. "Well, guys, it's been interesting...I gotta run." She headed for the door without waiting for a response.
"Wait a damn minute," Dean protested, following her to the door. "Where are you going? And how are you going to get there?"
Sam just frowned as he watched Chloe go, and wondered why Dean was so hell-bent on making her stay.
A grin tugging at her lips, she turned and smiled at him. "I'm gonna run. Got business to take care of. See ya." She winked at him, waved at Sam, and slipped out the door.
Sam watched as his brother stared dumbfounded as she disappeared out the door. "Okay...what was that?"
"That," Dean declared, pointing at the door, "was the most annoying, cocky, way too self confident girl I've ever met." He turned to Sam, who clearly looked like he didn't believe one word he said. "Oh yeah, and she claims to be A Vampire Slayer, whatever that means." He strode across the room and threw his body on his bed, still shaken from her presence, her perfume still lingering in the room.
Sam smirked knowingly. "Yeah, and you like her a lot." The second part of what his brother said finally registered. "Wait...a Vampire Slayer?"
"Like her?" he protested, swinging his hands beneath his head. "Yeah, right." He paused a moment, waiting for another crack from his brother, but when he got silence instead, he continued. "Vampire Slayer. Something about one girl in the world whose duty is to slay all the vamps, rid the world of evil, and so on. If I hadn't seen her seriously wail on those huge vamps, I wouldn't have believed her."
The wheels in Sam's mind were already working double-time as he moved over and grabbed his dad's journal off the small table, his eyebrows furrowing as he sank into the chair and began to flip through the pages in concentration.
For a moment, Dean didn't notice Sammy's reaction to his words. He kept wondering who was on the phone and why Chloe felt compelled to leave in such a hurry. But the sound of pages being turned quickly made him turn his head. "What is it?" he asked, wondering what his brother was up to now.
"I remember seeing something in here in reference to a Slayer," he murmured, not looking up.
"You mean... Dad knew something about a Vampire Slayer?" he said, standing up and looking over Sam's shoulder as he looked. It was several moments before he stopped at a single page towards the end of the journal. "Found it?"
"There's not much," Sam said, exhaling slowly. "But Dad jotted down the words Vampire Slayer and Boca del Inferno." He paused, looking up at Dean.
"Boca del Inferno?" Dean repeated slowly, trying to let the translation sink in. "'The Mouth of Hell' or something like that?" When Sam shook his head in agreement, something clicked inside. "You know, Chloe told me the same thing. That I was standing on the mouth of hell. The Hellmouth. That mean anything to you?" He looked at Sam, keenly interested in Chloe's part in Dad's journal. If she was telling the truth.
He took in a breath, and stood up. "I'm not sure. But if it's what it sounds like..." He looked at Dean with raised eyebrows. "This is gonna be one hell of a big job, Dean."
Dean sank back onto his bed and blew out his breath. "Gee, Sammy, ya think?" he said, more sarcastic than he'd intended. "Why would Dad send us here for a job this big? What exactly IS a Hellmouth, anyway?" He had more questions than answers, and he had a feeling only one person could answer them: Chloe.
"Well, that's the million dollar question," he murmured, not taking notice of Dean's sarcasm. He met his brother's eyes. "I think we're gonna have to find her again."
Dean stood up and pulled her card out of his pants pocket. Throwing it on the hotel room table, he smiled ruefully. "Not a problem. We've got her number." Looking at Sam carefully, he continued, "She seemed to like you, so why don't you call her? For all we know, she's getting her ass kicked by something scary."
Sam smirked and moved to pick up the phone, dialing the number on the card. He waited, but wound up getting her voicemail. "She's not answering. But I bet we can find out where she lives."
Crossing his arms, Dean looked uncertain but asked anyway. "Oh yeah? How we gonna do that?"
He grinned and picked up the phone book, dialing another number.
"Pizza Hut."
"Hi, I'd like to order a large pepperoni for delivery," Sam said.
"All right, that'll be 14.99. What's the name?"
"Sullivan. Chloe Sullivan."
"Oh. She still at 828 Haynes Drive?"
Sam jotted down the address. "Yep. Thanks." He hung up the phone and smirked at his brother.
Dean beamed with pride. "I've taught you well, little brother." Grabbing the keys to the Impala, he rushed for the door. "Well, come on! Let's go."
He shook his head a little, not nearly as excited about this whole thing as Dean was. He followed reluctantly, wondering what they'd walked into.
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
Feedback is muchly appreciated and needed: good, bad, and ugly... This has been a blast to write with my co-author and I hope y'all enjoy this!
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Chapter One
"What the hell was Dad thinking?" Dean grumbled to himself as he watched another finely shaped woman pass his table. The smoke was so thick in this bar, it was a wonder he could see anything. And if it wasn't for all the weird crap Sammy had told him about going on in this hellhole called Cleveland, they sure wouldn't have picked this place. Dean took another long swallow of the local beer -- tasting more like battery acid in his mouth -- and spotted another blonde hottie in a strapless dress pass his table. He seriously contemplated forgetting the mission, the coordinates, and even his father for an evening of pleasure.
Something stopped him, though. It wasn't Sam: he was holed up in their dingy hotel room, tired as all hell from the long drive and what he claimed was Dean's incessant "noise". No, whatever it was, kept his butt firmly planted in his seat. "What now?" he mumbled, scanning the room, seeing nothing until he laid eyes on 'her'.
Her senses were on red alert as she sat alone at the small table in the back of the bar. The smoke was thick though she supposed very few of the bar's inhabitants were at risk at developing lung cancer. She finished the virgin Bloody Mary she'd ordered and rose to her feet, well aware of how many eyes were on her as she headed for the door slowly. Lifting her chin, she drew in a breath. Here we go, she thought.
Dean watched a short, voluptuous, confident blonde stand up and slowly walk across the room. Power oozed out of her like a drug, nailing him to his seat with her mere presence. Who was this chick? he wondered, mesmerized by her careful yet obvious stride across the room. As if she knew she was being watched. He scanned the rest of the dank, smelly room and found the rest of the matrons had quieted down, their focus solely on her as she paused at the front door before opening it and leaving. But it was watching a handful of the largest men around leave quickly on her heels that made him jump up and follow her. "Always gotta be savin' the girls," he thought with a wry smile.
She didn't even make it five steps out the door before the first one leapt at her. She spun around, kicking him back against the side of the building and falling into a defensive posture as the others stood in shock.
"Slayer," one of the others hissed, his eyes darkening.
Storming out the door, he heard one of the men call the blonde "Slayer". And he didn't figure it had anything to do with the band. "What's going on here, guys?" he said brashly, taking one look at the men's faces and realizing they weren't men at all. The fangs said everything: vamps. He reached for his knife, ready to fight when he watched the blonde not only dropkick the one who had been against the wall, but do some funky karate move he had no name for. All he knew was that, within seconds, two of them had disappeared in a cloud of smoke. The girl, holding a stake in her hand, shot him a look that said she could handle it, but as he grabbed the third vamp, he figured she'd need help anyways.
She raised an eyebrow at him, grimacing a little when the vamp threw him back against the wall. "Just stay back," she told him, spinning once more and landing a well-placed kick against the vampire's chest, sending him sprawling on the ground. She placed her foot in the middle of his chest and brought the stake down to his heart swiftly. "You all right?" she asked, aware of the final vampire sneaking up behind her.
"Yea, I'm fine, sweetheart," he called, pulling himself off the wall to try to attack the last vamp. "Just not gonna take it lying down, ok?" Whipping out his knife, he attacked the last vamp from behind, stabbing the knife into the creature's neck and dragging it to the ground. Just in time for the blonde to drive a stake through its heart. It dissolved into dust, making him cough up a lung and pissed as hell. "Hey, that was mine to take down, dammit!" he yelled, pissed that a woman had beaten him out of a good killing.
"You mean like that last one that probably cracked a rib when it threw you against a brick wall?" she asked wryly.
He hid the wince at the scorching pain that flared across his chest as he stood up and stared at her. "That was just a warm up," she replied sarcastically. "Don't you think you're in a little over your pretty little head?"
She lifted an eyebrow. "Why? Did I look like I was in distress?" she asked, matching his sarcasm.
"You could have been kabobbed by that vamp creeping up behind you if it wasn't for me," he snapped back. "No need to thank me, not unless you want to." He turned on the Winchester charm, throwing her his best grin and knowing most women couldn't handle it.
Clearly not impressed, she rolled her eyes. "Whatever."
"Right back atcha," he murmured and started to go back into the bar. But something stopped him, because he suddenly turned around and said, "How the hell did you take those vamps out?" When she eyed him again warily, he persisted. "Oh come on, seriously. I've never seen fighting like that before."
She shrugged. "Experience." She studied him for a moment. "And who are you? Because people I know would run away screaming if they saw a vampire."
"Do I look like the screaming type, lady?" he demanded, crossing his arms, offended by the thought that he would run from something as stupid as a freaking vampire.
She smirked. "Do you really want me to answer that?"
Dean shrugged. "Experience, sweetheart. Just like you. I know what goes bump in the night."
"I bet," she said, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "See ya." She turned and headed toward her red VW bug that was parked beside a very nice black 67 Chevy Impala.
Glancing at the door to the bar, Dean looked at the blonde head towards his car and instantly forgot why he had been there to begin with. He had to keep tabs on this girl, he thought. She was something to contend with. "Like the car, huh?" he asked casually, making his way towards it just as she reached the other side. He figured the Bug belonged to her but wanted to keep her talking. Maybe he'd even get her name and number before the evening was through.
She tilted her head a little, wondering who the hell this guy was. "Good year for Chevy's," she remarked casually.
He snorted in laughter. "Good? Hell, the year for Chevys. But it figures. Coming from someone who drives... that" he waved a hand towards her car "you wouldn't really know."
She raised an eyebrow. He had her there. She knew very little about cars. "It's not exactly important in the grand scheme of things."
"Depends on your scheme," he replied, getting in and unlocking the passenger door. "Get in. I'll take you for a spin in it." He pushed the car door open and waited. And waited. And when she didn't move a muscle, he ducked down to look at her. Damn, she had some hot legs, he thought. "Come on!"
"I think I'll pass," she replied, surprised at the part of herself that actually wanted to get in the car. Because getting in cars with a complete stranger--no matter how hot said stranger was--was generally not a smart idea. Not that he could actually hurt her.
"What, you afraid or something?" he asked, daring her to make any kind of move. "You just took out a bunch of vamps and you're scared to get into a car with a guy?" He snorted in derision. "Figures. You women, you're all the same."
"I can pretty much guarantee you I'm not like anyone you've ever met," she said sharply.
"Really? Because you look like just a hot blonde girl," he replied with a sarcastic tone. "How does that make you any different?" He stared up at her, taken in by the glint in her sparkling eyes and the way her clothing fit her too well for the imagination, willing her to get into the car.
Growing annoyed, she moved so she was standing beside the driver's side of his car, her hands resting on the window. "You know any other girl who can take out five vamps in two minutes?"
"As a matter of fact... I don't." Admit it, she's got you there, he thought. "God, can I just get your name and number in case my brother and I run into a nest of vamps while we're here?" She was actually unlike anyone he'd ever met, and if she didn't want to spend more time with him, then fine. But at least he should be able to get something out of this encounter.
She was silent for a moment, then she moved to open her car door, hearing him sigh. She yanked her purse out of the passenger seat and pulled out a business card with her name and cell number on it. Drawing in a breath, she turned and handed it to him. "Stay outta trouble. And if you're not from around here...I wouldn't stay long." There was a hint of warning in her voice.
Dean quickly scanned the card: Chloe Sullivan. Pretty name, he thought, though he sure as hell wouldn't tell her that. "Chloe, huh?" he said, looking up at her. "Well...Chloe... I'm not from around here, but I have things to do in this town, so I'll be seeing ya." He watched her frown increase, prompting him to ask, "What?"
"Nothing. Just don't say I didn't try to warn you." Without waiting for him to respond, she turned and headed around to the driver's side of her car.
"Hang on a second!" he called, getting out of the Impala and making a beeline for her. "What are you not telling me here? I can feel the evil **** in the air. What's here to kill?" He grabbed her arm and swung her around to face him, only to be pushed back against his car brutally. "Hey, watch out for the paintjob!" he complained.
"Don't grab me," she warned, her eyes dark.
"Then just give me the info I'm looking for, dammit," he threatened back. She might be sexy, but she was the most hardheaded woman he'd ever met.
"Fine." She offered him a grim smile. "You're standing on the mouth of hell. Happy now?"
Dean threw her a mocking smile and snorted. "What does a girl know about the mouth of hell? What do you know about hell, for that matter?" He'd seen his fair share of demons, monsters, and all manner of creatures to make even the most courageous person run for the hills. That this mere slip of a girl might have faced it secretly humbled him.
"More than I hope anyone else ever has to find out," she said honestly.
"Huh, something you and I have in common," he told her and then stuck out his hand. "I'm Dean. I hunt the things that go bump in the night."
Chloe was silent for a moment, then she slid her hand into his. "With your brother?"
Dean nodded solemnly. "He's only been hunting with me for about a year, but I've been doing it all my life. You?" He held onto her hand a fraction longer than he probably should have, their touching shaking him deep down where nothing touched him.
The electricity in the touch wasn't lost on her either, but she swallowed hard and ignored it for the time being. "About six months." The surprise on his face made her smile very faintly.
"Wait, six months and you fought like... that?" he asked, letting his eyes wander down her well-muscled body. He looked around, noticing the shadows moving and his hunter senses on high alert. "Look, can we go grab a cup of coffee or something? Not a good idea to stand out here talking shop when I see things out to get us." God, please say yes, he thought to himself.
The hair on the back of her neck rose and she slowly turned to survey their surroundings. They were definitely being watched. And it wasn't by vampires. Her eyes narrowed as she stood perfectly still. "Good idea."
Dean opened the passenger side of the Impala. "Get in, I'll drive." When she threw him an impatient look, he demanded, "Hey, this baby can move a helluva lot faster than your bucket of bolts, so get into the car." He stood still, not moving until she acquiesced.
Throwing him another annoyed look, she reluctantly moved around and climbed into the passenger seat of his car.
"Finally," he replied, swinging the door behind her and racing across to the driver’s side, getting in and turning the engine over. The Impala purred as he slammed the car into gear and took off before the shadows took form. Fortunately Dean remembered a local coffee dive just minutes from the bar, so they said nothing else until they were seated at the coffee shop, hot coffee in hand. "So, tell me how it is you can fight like you did?" he said as casually as possible. The blonde beauty sitting across from him, he noticed, had incredibly intelligent and sharp eyes that seemed to see right through him.
Chloe gazed at him for a long moment, her gut telling her that despite his cocky arrogance, he was a good guy. "How long you been doing this?" she asked, her voice quiet.
Dean was silent for several moments, wondering how far into his life he was willing to give her. "Since me and my brother Sammy were kids," he muttered, shrugging it off as not a big deal. Leaning closer across the table, he looked at Chloe sternly. "You still didn't answer my question. Chloe."
She leaned a little across the table. "You ever heard of a Vampire Slayer?"
"A.... what?" he asked, clearly having no idea what she was talking about. "What the hell is a vampire slayer?" he demanded, taking a swig of his coffee and wishing suddenly for some bourbon in it.
Chloe glared at him. "Keep your voice down. I already have enough enemies in this town, thank you." Letting out a breath, she glanced around, then looked at him again. "A Vampire Slayer. One girl in the entire world who's blessed or cursed depending on how you look at it, with the strength and skill to fight the vampires and rid the world of their evil plague on humanity."
For several moments, Dean stared at her as if she had lost her mind. "You're... you're kidding me, right?" he whispered in response, leaning further in to talk to her, though the scent of her body assaulted his senses and nearly sent him reeling. "You're this... girl?"
She managed a faint, wry smile. "Give the man a prize." She sat back against the booth, picking her cup of coffee up and taking a drink.
"Gee, thanks," he remarked smartly, taking another sip of his coffee. "So you're the pro, tell me what the deal is in this hellhole of a city."
"Hellhole's a pretty accurate word. Cleveland is literally located on a gateway to hell. Spike calls it a Hellmouth."
Dean did a double take, nearly spitting out his coffee. "Spike? What is a Spike?" His confused look must have amused her, because she grinned broadly at him. "Sure, laugh it up, why don't you?" he snarked. "I've never heard of this crap before." Sammy should really be here, he thought briefly.
"Spike is a friend," she said in amusement. "A friend who knows a whole lot about this kind of crap."
"Uh huh," he replied, not convinced that anything she was saying was real. In fact, had it not been for the fact that he'd seen her kick some serious vampire ass, he would've thought she was just another girl. "Whatever. So what is this Hellmouth, anyway? Gonna let me in on your secret little club or what?"
She drew in a breath and let it out slowly, the smile fading from her face. "The Hellmouth is literally what it sounds like. A gateway to hell. Mystical forces converge here, bad sh*t happens. Most towns have a vamp or two, or maybe a ghost. Hellmouths have it all. Vampires, demons, you name it, it's here. And in abundance."
Rubbing his hands together, Dean couldn't help but laugh out loud with glee. "Hell, then I'm in the right place. I knew Dad wouldn't send us to this place without a reason!" She glared at him again, throwing him a 'shut the hell up' look, causing him to back off just a little bit. "Heh, I love killing things. Seems like a good place to do it." He stretched a little, noticing her attention drawn to the movement of his chest. He grinned. "So how do we get rid of this Hellmouth thing?"
"There's no 'we'," Chloe said flatly, feeling her defenses begin to rise for more than one reason. "I work alone."
"Sorry, darlin'," he replied, finishing his coffee and putting down the empty mug. "You know about this thing, and I know Sammy and me were sent here to destroy this thing. Work alone or not, you're stuck with us."
Her eyes darkened. "You don't get it, do you?" Not giving him a chance to respond, she leaned a little closer once more. "You think this is a quick thing? It's not. It's long-term. Years."
"So having Sammy and me with you can make years more like months," Dean shrugged in response. Though deep down he realized he liked the idea of hanging around here, with her, for months. "What's the big deal?" he continued when she shook her head in denial.
"I'm not gonna be responsible for your safety. I don't need people in the way." She didn't intend for her words to be harsh, but that's how they came out anyway.
"Sweetheart," he countered, moving closer to her, his hands gripping the table to keep a sudden burst of anger under control, "I am responsible for me. Get that straight now." Leaning back and resuming his nonchalant slouch, he shrugged. "Besides, you'll need me when it's all said and done.... in the way. Whatever, dude."
Chloe gritted her teeth in frustration. "I wanna meet your brother." Maybe she could talk some sense into him.
Standing up and throwing down money for the coffee and the tip, Dean laughed softly in his throat. "Sure. We'll go meet Sammy. He'll make you see the light." He stood there, waiting for her to get up and lead the way.
Somehow, she thought. I doubt that. Drawing in a breath, she rose to her feet and headed out the door.
Dean followed her, thinking her confident yet feminine stride was just as effective from behind.
As they got back into the Impala and Dean screeched out of the parking lot, it occurred to him that he really didn't know why Dad had led Sammy and him here. Just a couple coordinates and something about trouble in Cleveland. That was it. Looking at Chloe from out the corner of his eye, he muttered something about Sammy being awake and smacking some sense into this girl. Something Chloe had apparently heard.
She glowered at him. "I dare you to try, Dean. I really do."
"What?" he snarked back. "You afraid to try?"
"Being smacked?"
Rolling his eyes while keeping them on the road, he mumbled, "In your dreams, honey."
For such a beautiful woman, he thought, she really did have a smart mouth. He was never more thankful to get to their hotel. Pulling into a parking space, he put the car into park and shut off the ignition. "So, here we are," he casually remarked. He saw the light on and knew Sam was still up. "And Sammy's still awake."
"Good. Hopefully your brother isn't as much a pain in the ass as you," she said with a smirk, heading up to the door and knocking lightly.
Dean said nothing but followed her, watching with an amused smile as she knocked.
Inside the hotel room, Sam Winchester had been studying his dad's journal, attempting to piece together how the coordinates Dad had texted to Dean could collide with whatever evil he had researched here. So the sharp knock on the door shocked him out of his intense studying.
He opened the door and found a short, pretty blonde standing there, a glower on her face. With Dean behind her, winking at Sammy like he was about to get lucky. Glaring at his brother, he looked at the girl. "Hello?" he asked.
She smiled at Sam. "I believe this belongs to you." She motioned behind her to Dean. "If you'd kindly keep him, I'd appreciate it."
Sam smirked at the girl. "Who, him? Never seen him before." He flashed another smirk at Dean and laughed.
"Sammy, don't be stupid," Dean grumbled. "Let her in. I think she's got some info on what we're looking for." He stared down his brother, ready to strike out if Sam was going to play cute again, but surprisingly, Sam nodded and stepped back, letting them inside.
Once the door closed, Sam immediately launched into a tirade. "Where the hell have you been, Dean? I'm studying and you're playing? What's up with that?"
Dean threw him a look that told him to shut the hell up before pointing to Chloe. "Sam, this is Chloe. Chloe, this is Sam. Apparently she can kill vamps."
Chloe shot Dean a glare and folded her arms across her chest. "Nice to meet you, Sam."
"You too, Chloe," Sam replied, hesitated for a second, then said, "Wait, you came here... with Dean?" He looked at his older brother in dismay. Oh, this can't be good, he thought. "So you kill... vampires? How do you know that, Dean?" This last question was directed at his brother.
Dean glared at him and scooted around Chloe to grab whatever was in the mini-fridge to drink. "I helped her take a bunch out at that bar you didn't want to hang out in."
"Yeah, but that's because I knew your mind was on... other things." He glanced over at Chloe, who stood there watching them and inwardly laughing, probably. Her twinkling eyes seemed to suggest that.
"You sure have a way with radically interpreting events, don't you?" Chloe asked with a smirk as she raised an eyebrow at Dean, then looked at Sam. "What actually happened was I saved your brother's ass when a vamp threw him into a brick wall."
Sam threw his head back and laughed. "And you saved his sorry butt?" he asked Chloe while looking at Dean. "You mean to tell me a vamp beat you up?"
Dean glowered at his brother. "Shut the hell up, Sammy. You know I could have handled those vamps myself if Blondie hadn't gotten in the way."
"Uh huh. All five of them?" She raised her eyebrows, her arms still folded across her chest.
"Hell yeah, baby," he drawled lazily, leaning against the wall. "I got all kinds of skills." His gaze held hers steadily, the electricity and friction popping between them like lightening.
Sensing the tension, Sam hit his brother. "Hey, be nice, okay?" He offered Chloe a seat and sat down on the edge of his bed. "So I understand you may be able to help us with the thing we're hunting?"
Chloe sat down in the chair he offered her, focusing on the younger brother. "And what thing would that be?" she asked.
"Funny thing about that," Sam replied, looking down and over at the numbers their father had left. "We don't... exactly know yet. But according to these coordinates, we're definitely in the right place."
Dean rolled his eyes and focused on Sam. "That's all you got, Sammy? A headache and the knowledge that we're in the right place? What about Dad's journal?" He took a step towards his brother, irritated he hadn't found more.
"Well, unlike some people," Sam commented, glaring at Dean, "I'm still getting used to the whole demon-hunting, guess-what-Dad's-thinking game." He looked at Chloe and smiled shyly at her. "So, since you're a demon hunter yourself, what are you hunting?"
She offered him a smile in return. "I'm not a demon hunter...exactly." She shot Dean a warning look to keep his mouth shut. "I pretty much hunt whatever's causing trouble at the time. Which, here...can be any number of things."
Sam folded his hands, intrigued by what she was telling her. "But... no offense or anything... you're just a girl. Isn't that kind of -- dangerous?"
Dean laughed at his brother's words. "Yeah, that's what I said to her, and she about bit my head off for it." He would have said more but Chloe's glittering, nearly dangerous eyes stopped him.
Chloe's gaze traveled back to Sam. He wasn't being an annoying smartass like Dean, he seemed genuinely curious. Concerned even. A smile tugged at her lips but she shrugged. "Dangerous? Yeah. But it's dangerous for you too," she pointed out.
Sam smiled at Chloe, who seemed genuinely concerned for their well-being. Touching but highly unusual. "Yeah, well, dangerous, yes. But it's what we're doing to help Dad. It's... a thing." He shrugged and gave her a look that told her to not ask anything about it.
Dean was getting impatient with this line of questioning, especially when he wasn't involved directly in it. Throwing himself down beside his brother, he slapped his hands together and said, "So, who's up for kicking some vamp ass? I figure, if Blondie here was fighting them, then Dad must have sent us here to hunt down some nests, right?"
Sam looked at Dean and sighed. "Not necessarily, Dean. Personally, I think it's more than just vamps. This place just feels... evil. Look at today's newspaper: full of murders, unexplained stuff, the obits are a mile long... How do you explain that?" His last question was directed at Chloe, because he believed she knew something about it.
"Welcome to the Hellmouth," she said grimly, her eyes dark with untold emotions. Before she could say anymore, her cell phone rang and she snatched it off her jeans where it was clipped on. "What is it, Spike?" she asked, turning her back to the guys and moving away a little.
"We got trouble at the docks," Spike's gruff voice drawled.
Drawing in a breath, she nodded slightly. "I'm on it." She hung up the phone. "Well, guys, it's been interesting...I gotta run." She headed for the door without waiting for a response.
"Wait a damn minute," Dean protested, following her to the door. "Where are you going? And how are you going to get there?"
Sam just frowned as he watched Chloe go, and wondered why Dean was so hell-bent on making her stay.
A grin tugging at her lips, she turned and smiled at him. "I'm gonna run. Got business to take care of. See ya." She winked at him, waved at Sam, and slipped out the door.
Sam watched as his brother stared dumbfounded as she disappeared out the door. "Okay...what was that?"
"That," Dean declared, pointing at the door, "was the most annoying, cocky, way too self confident girl I've ever met." He turned to Sam, who clearly looked like he didn't believe one word he said. "Oh yeah, and she claims to be A Vampire Slayer, whatever that means." He strode across the room and threw his body on his bed, still shaken from her presence, her perfume still lingering in the room.
Sam smirked knowingly. "Yeah, and you like her a lot." The second part of what his brother said finally registered. "Wait...a Vampire Slayer?"
"Like her?" he protested, swinging his hands beneath his head. "Yeah, right." He paused a moment, waiting for another crack from his brother, but when he got silence instead, he continued. "Vampire Slayer. Something about one girl in the world whose duty is to slay all the vamps, rid the world of evil, and so on. If I hadn't seen her seriously wail on those huge vamps, I wouldn't have believed her."
The wheels in Sam's mind were already working double-time as he moved over and grabbed his dad's journal off the small table, his eyebrows furrowing as he sank into the chair and began to flip through the pages in concentration.
For a moment, Dean didn't notice Sammy's reaction to his words. He kept wondering who was on the phone and why Chloe felt compelled to leave in such a hurry. But the sound of pages being turned quickly made him turn his head. "What is it?" he asked, wondering what his brother was up to now.
"I remember seeing something in here in reference to a Slayer," he murmured, not looking up.
"You mean... Dad knew something about a Vampire Slayer?" he said, standing up and looking over Sam's shoulder as he looked. It was several moments before he stopped at a single page towards the end of the journal. "Found it?"
"There's not much," Sam said, exhaling slowly. "But Dad jotted down the words Vampire Slayer and Boca del Inferno." He paused, looking up at Dean.
"Boca del Inferno?" Dean repeated slowly, trying to let the translation sink in. "'The Mouth of Hell' or something like that?" When Sam shook his head in agreement, something clicked inside. "You know, Chloe told me the same thing. That I was standing on the mouth of hell. The Hellmouth. That mean anything to you?" He looked at Sam, keenly interested in Chloe's part in Dad's journal. If she was telling the truth.
He took in a breath, and stood up. "I'm not sure. But if it's what it sounds like..." He looked at Dean with raised eyebrows. "This is gonna be one hell of a big job, Dean."
Dean sank back onto his bed and blew out his breath. "Gee, Sammy, ya think?" he said, more sarcastic than he'd intended. "Why would Dad send us here for a job this big? What exactly IS a Hellmouth, anyway?" He had more questions than answers, and he had a feeling only one person could answer them: Chloe.
"Well, that's the million dollar question," he murmured, not taking notice of Dean's sarcasm. He met his brother's eyes. "I think we're gonna have to find her again."
Dean stood up and pulled her card out of his pants pocket. Throwing it on the hotel room table, he smiled ruefully. "Not a problem. We've got her number." Looking at Sam carefully, he continued, "She seemed to like you, so why don't you call her? For all we know, she's getting her ass kicked by something scary."
Sam smirked and moved to pick up the phone, dialing the number on the card. He waited, but wound up getting her voicemail. "She's not answering. But I bet we can find out where she lives."
Crossing his arms, Dean looked uncertain but asked anyway. "Oh yeah? How we gonna do that?"
He grinned and picked up the phone book, dialing another number.
"Pizza Hut."
"Hi, I'd like to order a large pepperoni for delivery," Sam said.
"All right, that'll be 14.99. What's the name?"
"Sullivan. Chloe Sullivan."
"Oh. She still at 828 Haynes Drive?"
Sam jotted down the address. "Yep. Thanks." He hung up the phone and smirked at his brother.
Dean beamed with pride. "I've taught you well, little brother." Grabbing the keys to the Impala, he rushed for the door. "Well, come on! Let's go."
He shook his head a little, not nearly as excited about this whole thing as Dean was. He followed reluctantly, wondering what they'd walked into.