Notes and disclaimers: Smallville and Supernatural owned by large corporate entities and not me. No profit garnered ever. Thanks to Circusgirl and e for awesome beta magic. Title from Mountain Goats' Agemo's Hoops.


"What are you doing here?" And just to complete the cliché, they both said it at the same time.

Chloe didn't need to look over her shoulder to know Clark had already done his running away act when the action was over and he had to get back to Smallville. With the dead goopy thing and the bits of fur and she thought maybe some of it was in her hair. Justice and truth and the American Way and helping Clark sucked sometimes. Especially when he just left her.

Oh, and the guy staring at her. The one holding the shotgun. Where he had been in all this, she had no idea. "You wanna put that down? Or are you planning to shoot me?"

The guy, who was really kinda hot when she looked past the shotgun, just staring. He looked a little like Jason, actually. Weird world. Then he said, "I'm a hunter."

Chloe almost laughed. "You have a duck permit, I bet. For this very alley. Put the gun down."

He lowered it, and looked he was trying not to laugh as well. "I am a hunter, just not for ducks. By the way, looks like you've been doing some hunting yourself." He was smirking at her hair.

"Oh, shut up." He wasn't just smirking at her hair, he was completely checking her out. At least he was cute. Chloe reached into her purse and started cleaning up. Not only was there fur in her hair, but some of the goop, too. Stupid Clark didn't even bother to help her clean up. Stupid Krypto-mutant who came all the way to Kansas City and his sentient warts stalking her, disrupting her conference. "I need a shower," she muttered.

"I got a motel room," the guy said.

"Yeah, that's definitely happening, Duckie. I don't know who you are."

He held out his hand. "Dean Winchester." He was trying to look down her shirt as she shook his hand.

"Whatever," Chloe said and started walking with great dignity back to her hotel. Unfortunately the heel of her shoe had broken during the fighting and it was more of a stumble with no dignity. Dean was suddenly at her side, holding her elbow so she didn't fall. He smelled like sulfur. "Thanks," she said.

"Were you here after that other thing, the one that kinda glowed?"

Chloe frowned. "No, of course not. Just, you know, normal girl caught in the crossfire. Nothing going on here."

"You suck at cover stories," he said, openly laughing at her now.


"You suck at cover stories." He still hadn't let go of her elbow. "I know you took down the green blob."

Chloe smiled. "You think I could do that all by myself."

"Sure," he said. "You look like a tough cookie."

"It's the goop in my hair," Chloe said. She was smiling, though. "I'm not going to your motel room."

"It was worth a try," he said.

She pulled away from him and laughed. "Does that ever actually work?"

"All the time. Though it helps if I have your name." He had a very nice smile, if a little sleazy.

"Chloe Sullivan," she said. "And okay, fine, you can buy me dinner over there," she said, pointing at a diner. "In an hour." There could be a story in this. She couldn't really write much about the walking warts. And Dean was really cute.


"Story of my life," Chloe said. She sipped her coffee and officially gave up. She couldn't believe she was being stood up. "I am so ready to order food," Chloe said when the waitress walked up to her.

"Good for you," the waitress said.

Chloe ordered and then took her laptop out of her bag. Screw it. Stupid charming boys who don't show up, she wasn't going to let it get her down. She was going to write another story that wouldn't be the scoop of the century because she had to protect Clark. She was going to write the hell out of the part she could comfortably tell.

A half hour later, she'd eaten half her burger and all her fries, downed two more coffees and managed to find a decent wireless signal to get her story back to her editor. Now she was going to read about Paris Hilton and see if Lois and Oliver had made TMZ again. "You deserve a break today," she said. And prayed Lois hadn't had another nip slip and Paris had.

"I do deserve a break today," Dean said as he slid into the seat across from her. "And you are the picture of it."

"Find another seat. Ninety minutes late and no excuse? I start kicking your ass in 10, 9, 8 …"

"I was saving kittens. And orphans." He pointed to his cheek. "See this cut? Line of fire."

"Kittens." She crossed her arms and his eyes went right to her breasts. Well, that was why she wore that bra. "And orphans."

"Basically," he said, waving at the waitress. "How do you feel about pie?"

"Like kittens and orphans. Boring and not good enough." She would have edited that phrase out in a story, but she was flustered.

"I told the demon I ran into that I have places to be and an incredibly hot chick waiting for me. But he had to do his thing, so." Dean smiled up at the waitress.

Chloe waited until he'd given his order for two pieces of pie and watched the waitress's ass as she walked away to say, "Demons? Did you seriously say demon?"

He looked at her and cocked his head to one side. "Didn't I meet you in an alley covered in demon guts and remains?"

"That wasn't a demon. That was something else. Do you really believe in demons?"

"You don't? You were after a green glowing blob thing but somehow demons makes me the crazy one."

Chloe stared. "I didn't call you crazy."

"You don't have much of a poker face, honey. Didn't you notice that see-through thing floating around?"

"I did, but I thought." She paused. "Huh. That was a ghost, wasn't it?"

"A really mean one," Dean said. He pointed at the cut on his face again. "We thought maybe the mutant blob was part of it, but you took care of that for us, didn't you?"

"I did," Chloe said. With Clark's help, but he had run back to Metropolis. He'd never know she took all the credit. "Okay, fine, demons are real. And other things. And you were saving orphans and kittens."

"I very much was." Dean grinned and pushed the second piece of pie over to her after the waitress put it down. "Have some pie."

"Before we do the full Twin Peaks moment, you said 'we' – 'we thought' – who's the other one?"

"My less attractive brother. He's back at the motel now. But he's boring. Let's talk about you. Chloe, Chloe, Chloe. That's a very nice name."

Chloe started in on her pie. It was bland. But he was really cute. She said, "I'm a reporter. For the Daily Planet."

Dean leaned in closer. "Really? Tell me more. Tell me more about you."


"What are we doing here?"

Dean shifted his hips a little and grinned. "Sweetheart, you sure seem to know what we're doing right now."

Chloe licked her lips. "I know exactly what we're doing right now. I meant, why are we doing it here? Not that I don't like the car but I like a little more space."

"You have to like the car," Dean said. He even stopped trying to open her bra to say it.

"I like your car," she said, laughing. "I like beds, too." Which sounded really forward. She was being really forward, very Lois. But Dean was really hot and Chloe didn't exactly have plans to come back to Kansas City. She bet Dean didn't, either. Why not be forward, she thought. She rolled a little and undid her own bra. "Tricky, I know."

"I like tricky. I like it even better off." Chloe's bra joined her shirt and skirt under the seat. She meant to say something about how she had a room. He had his mouth and that tongue on her nipple and he was slowly pushing his hand down her belly, slipping into her underwear.

"Oh, you're good at that," she said. She pushed at his jeans and boxers. "Down, down," she said.

"At your command," he said. He pulled off her underwear as he sat down in the well of the backseat, pulling her legs on his shoulders.

Best date ever, she thought.


"How big is your boyfriend?" Dean stretched and then turned on his side to look at her.

"My boyfriend? Why do you think I have a boyfriend?" She thought about putting on some clothes but it was a little late for modesty. Twice in the car, twice back at her hotel room and she'd pretty much lost that virtue.

"How do you not have a boyfriend? What kind of idiots do you hang out with back in Smalltown?"

"Smallville," Chloe said. "And Metropolis. And I don't exactly not have a boyfriend. But you can take Jimmy, so don't worry. Not that I'm going to tell him."

"I can take anyone named Jimmy from Smalltown." He smirked as he said it. "What about the guy you were killing blobs with?"

Chloe had managed to talk about Smallville and Dark Thursday and all of it without bringing up Clark more than once or twice. She had to protect him even if he had run off and left her covered with sentient wart goo. After all, tonight hadn't turned out bad at all. She smiled. "You don't think I did that all by myself?"

"Ha. I saw him, Chloe. Him, I might have a hard time taking down. I'd do it, though."

"You know, I'm not the kind of girl who has guys in her life beating the crap out of anyone I choose to eat pie with."

Dean said, "You're incredibly hot."

Chloe knew she was blushing, she could feel it. She looked over at the clock and said, "I have to leave in three hours. Check out, catch my plane."

"So that gives us, what? Two hours and fifty minutes, right?" He pulled her right on top of him. "We better get to work."

"I can get actually packed and ready in eight minutes."

"I promise to make those extra two minutes very special."


He'd given her his cell phone number, written on a condom wrapper. She blushed as she copied it onto a receipt. She tried to hunch over a little in her seat as she did, not that the old woman next to her was even awake.

She should have tried to sleep on the plane but it wasn't happening. Chloe felt warm all over. Tingly. She was too tired to think of a better metaphor. Maybe when she got home and told Lois about it.

Or most of it, anyway.

And she'd have to tell Clark about the ghosts and demons. Maybe kryptonite scared them away from Smallville. Maybe she'd call Dean and ask him about it some time.

She definitely wasn't going to complain about Clark speeding off and leaving her alone. Stupid to complain about that now.


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