Disclaimer: Supernatural is the creation of Tim Kripke, Smallville belongs to the CW, and its producers and creators; as do the characters of Dean and Sam Winchester, Chloe Sullivan and Clark Kent; they are not mine.
"It's Got a Nice Beat (But You Can't Dance to It) by Karen
The Impala broke down in the middle of nowhere and they had been forced to call for a tow to bring into the nearest body shop which happened to be in a town in their home state of Kansas that neither of the Winchester brothers had ever heard of.
To the tune of Dean's grumbling, which was pretty normal for him, Sam thought and heard the mechanic tell them that it would take at least the next six to seven hours, depending on how soon the guy working on the car managed to get the part from his brother-in-law and then install it.
Sam sighed and decided that it was rather counter productive to stand and wait around for the part, walking over to where Dean stood hovering over the shoulder of the mechanic, he gently tapped his brother on the shoulder. "Dean, I don't know about you, but I'm starving. Let's go get something to eat."
Chloe Sullivan had been working late at the office were she was sole editor and producer of the high school's newspaper, the Torch, and had been working on mainly enthusiasm, adrenaline and a personal drive to see the paper printed and ready to go before the deadline.
In the back of her mind she realized that she worked best under pressure and with a deadline to meet. It was a source of personal pride. Her able assistant, Clark Kent had again disappeared for parts unknown.
In her more snarky and suspicious moments, believed it was to make some appointment with Lana Lang, the proverbial girl next door. "Honestly, sometimes I don't know what he sees in her. I mean, she's pretty and kind, and everybody's favorite, but come on, I love her, but Clark should have more sense than that."
Chloe shook her head, finished proofing and editing the last of the articles to go into the paper and hit the save button on her computer. She straightened up, trying to get the kinks out of her back and shoulder muscles from being in one position for too long.
As she did so, she realized that she hadn't eaten anything since lunch, and without too much thought into the matter decided that she would remedy that immediately. She reached over and grabbed her coat and her bag from one of the empty chairs and headed toward the doorway.
Elsewhere a group of friends with a homemade chemistry set cobbled together in one kid's empty garage sat up late fine tuning the final phases of a plan long in the making.
The green haze pretty much enveloped everything.
By this time had been accepted more or less as a byproduct of using the green rocks that had shown up scattered around Smallville since the night of the meteor shower. Brian, Ren had begun to falter a little bit, expressed more doubts, worried about getting caught, and the leader, sensing the way the wind blew immediately took steps to squash this doubts.
Tyler doubled the dosage. Reminding them of the long term benefits, robbing banks and having the ability to walk through the walls and other solid objects was cool, but inevitably Tyler knew that it could be much, much bigger.
"Michael didn't make it out, last time," Brian murmured under his breath to Ren, half-hoping and half-worrying that Tyler wouldn't hear him.
"I know. I know," Ren whispered back as the alarms and motion detectors of the bank's security system blared to life and provided a counterpoint to the whine of the engine powering up of the old black Jeep. The jeep was on old Ford model that Tyler's old man had given to him upon the occasion of his sixteenth birthday.
From the front seat, Tyler let out a whoop of delight as he gunned the engine, stepped on the gas, and edged the jeep out onto the side road and away from the bank and the main highway. "Woohah! Man, what a rush! Tell me, guys, if you didn't a massive rush out of that last little operation, or what?"
Ren and Brian shrugged then leaned forward and over the rear of the seating area, and pumped fists with each other.
Unnoticed and almost forgotten in the rush of excitement and adrenaline was a dull, quiet but still very much present thrum. The thrumming sound was pitched an octave or two lower than the car motor, but there nonetheless.
There was an intelligence behind the sound, and it could smell the presence of a scent that it recognized, the energy given off by the green meteorite rocks had roused it to sentience, and it wanted more, much more.
Dean and Sam sat down in a booth near the back of the diner. The place was packed evening getting on towards almost midnight. The diner was the open twenty-four hour kind.
As soon as they were seated a waitress came over to take the order.
"What'll be, fellers?" she asked.
"Make it simple, darling," Dean drawled, in his best imitation of James Dean doing middle-America diner, "Meat and potatoes, and the same for my bro, here."
"You got it, darling," she replied and went off to fill their order.
Sam tried to hide a small half-smile of mingled amusement and annoyance at Dean and his 'moves' on anything female, with a pulse, and reasonably attractive. Dean meant well, but sometimes for the life of him, Sam never knew when Dean was simply hitting on a girl, or when he was actually serious about a girl. Dean was not one would call the serious relationship material.
While they waited for the meal, a pretty blond girl had come in, looked all around for someone she expected to find, and was disappointed when she did not find him or her, before she marched over and sat down in the booth adjacent to theirs.
She glanced up and Dean noted that she had very pretty and intent blue eyes.
"Hi, there," Dean drawled.
"Hi, yourself," she replied. "I don't think I've ever seen you around town before."
"We just arrived. Our car broke down a few blocks away and we're waiting to get it repaired," Sam said.
The thrumming sound had gradually gained in volume and pitch until it could be heard at a distance of thirty feet. To the more attuned to the paranormal, like Dean and Sam Winchester it sounded much like a swarm of bees who had decided for some crazy reason to take up residence inside one's ear canal.
If it sounded both painful and annoying, that would pretty much sum it up. Chloe Sullivan tried to contain her natural and well-honed curiosity, however, while maintaining a proper journalistic impartiality, but she had already formulate a few of her own pet theories about the two very cute, and very ruggedly handsome newcomers to Smallville.
Dean's cell phone rang, the ring tone on it one that he downloaded for a Metallica web-site. He reached into his jacket pocket to answer and flipped it open. "Dean Winchester, talk to me."
Over the phone Dean heard the sound of cars in the background. "Mr. Winchester, I'm pleased to inform you that it's Mr. Brunn form the auto body shop. The part we've been waiting for has arrived and it's been installed."
"Do you want me to come get the car?" Dean asked.
"Sure, when would be a convenient time for you," asked Mr. Brunn.
"The sooner the better. My brother and I are just about to have a sit-down dinner, but we'll be by shortly after that. How's that sound?"
"Sounds fine," the other man replied and hung up the phone on his end of the connection.
Dean flipped his cell phone shut and turned to Sam. "Sammy, bro. We're back in business. The car's been fixed."
"Great. Sam nodded.
"You look a little pale. You feeling all right, Sam?"
The thrumming sound that had earlier been only barely audible had grown quite loud by now.
"Dean," Sam muttered to his brother as soon as the sound began, and grew gradually louder. Sam's newfound and increasing precognitive ability was getting stronger, but each time he had a vision, it still hurt like hell.
Sam had his hand to his temple and his the lines of his face tightened up in pain. "We've got trouble, and it's just outside of the diner."
"Let's go check it out," Dean replied, nodding towards the door and getting to his feet. "This shouldn't take long, and then we'll come back and pay for the meal."
Sam nodded. "Okay, but this is weird."
Dean rolled his eyes and looked up toward the ceiling. "I know, could you define weird."
Sam sighed, stood up and began walking with his brother toward the door, before he answered the question.
Chloe knew that this was definitely one situation where she was not going to be left out of the action, and quickly followed after the two brothers.
"Well, spill it," Dean said. "What are we dealing with here, spook, soul-sucking lich, or what. Inquiring minds want to know."
"If it's a ghost, it's like no ghost we've ever dealt with before, it's misty and vague, and it's green."
"Green? Chole and Dean asked at the same time.
Dean glared at the blonde, nosy, but very attractive girl whom they had met in the diner
"This isn't open to a debate," Dean said.
"I wasn't giving you a choice," Chloe stated, standing quite closer to Dean by this time, her chin thrust out, hands on hips and head titled up so that she could look directly into his eyes. After long experience of dealing with very smart, reasonably attractive and stubborn guys, her own relationship with Clark Kent, notwithstanding, she had more than a few tricks up her sleeve, to knowing just how to cope with them.
"I'm coming with you," announced Chloe in a matter-of-fact tone.
"Run!, " shouted Dean, to the blonde girl, Chloe that he and his brother had meet at that very same diner.
To his surprise Chloe burst out laughing, both at the suggestion that she might feel so inclined to run away from danger, and also from the implication that she could not take care of herself. "I've got a better idea. Why don't you two run to safety, and I'll take care of the bad guy?"
Sam sighed and shrugged. "Dean, bro. I don't think you're going to have much luck convincing this one of the validity of your argument, so don't even bother.
"Oh, shut the hell up, Sam."
"You know," Sam said ignoring last statement, "I didn't think it was possible, to find someone actually more stubborn, pig-headed and reckless than you."
"Oh, gee, thanks. I feel so much better now," grumbled Dean, throwing up his hands in disgust. "Have it your way."
Chloe turned to Sam. "Is he always like this?"
"Yeah, pretty much, this must be a slow day for him."
"You got a name, or are you just gonna settle for annoying blond chick," Dean muttered under his breath, shuffling his feet and clenching and unclenching his fists. In the back of his mind, he thought. "It's damn incontinent to have the Impala in the shop. It's got all the guns and the gear in the truck. So, we're just gonna have to wing it, even up against a ghost.'
"Chloe Sullivan," the girl replied.
"Lovely name. I'm Dean, this is Sam."
"Winchester," Sam added. The pain in his had at last subsided to a dull throb, not ideal but bearable under the circumstances.
Meanwhile, the being that in other circumstances had once called itself "Lizzie" had felt the energy given off in this general area and had prompted the three young teenagers to come this direction.
Whether they knew it or not, the long-terms effects of exposure to the green rocks would not bring them fame and fortune, but instead, death.
For being already dead, "Lizzie' almost felt sorry them, almost, but not quite, she needed the expended energy to fully manifest, and when she did, she wanted more. She had been insubstantial for far too long, longer than she could possibly remember. It wasn't life, not truly alive, but it was better than nothing.
Out of the corner of his eye, while he had been listening to the exchange between his brother Dean and the girl, Chole, noticed that a green mist had formed up and around the cares at the edge of the parking lot and by increments had begun getting closer and closer to their position.
"Whatever we're going to do, we'd better do it fast," Sam said. "Look!"
"What the hell is that?" Chloe demanded.
"It's green mist," Dean replied.
"Don't be a smartass," Chloe griped.
"Can't help it," Dean replied. "It's just a part of my charm."
Chloe sighed. "I don't see how you put up with him, Sam."
"It's like wine, or turnips, or anything else, it's an acquired taste, and we're family, so I am more or less obligated to 'put up with him." Sam smiled.
"If the pair of you are quite finished with making jokes at my expense, might we focus on the task at hand?" Dean said.
"Sure, you got a plan?"
"Yeah, find it, kill it, and go get the car."
"Wonderful, except I left my packet of rock salt in my other pair of jeans."
"Rock salt?" Chloe asked.
"I've got a double dose in my jacket, let's hope this particular version of 'things that go bump in the night' isn't too strong, for it might not lost with only a double dosage between the two of us." Dean said and paused. "Correction, the three of us." He turned his head to look at Chloe, "that is, if you're insisting on sticking around for this."
Chloe nodded. "Did you say we're dealing with a ghost?"
"No I said, we're dealing with a host."
"I have very good ears, you definitely said ghost."
"Dean, don't bother, it's here," Sam said.
The spectral mist lineaments grew more defined, from a vague amorphous cloud of green energy to the lines of a human figure, this one female. It's eyes were intent and blue, and the hair was a ragged cloud of white hair around its oval face. "More, more, I must have more energy!"
The spectral figure gathered itself to spring forward and launched itself at Dean.
Dean reacted immediately to threat and with one hand grasped Chloe around the shoulders, knocked her out of the line of fire, with the other hand, he delved into his jacket pocket, withdrew the packet of rock salt and tossed it to Sam.
Sam caught the packet in mid-air, open the strap that held it closed, pivoted on one heel and threw the contents of the packet directly into the spectral figure's face.
It shrieked, and the sound was even worse than the thrumming that had announced its arrival.
"Don't think it's going be that easy," Sam said.
"Look, how far away is that auto body shop," Dean asked.
"Why, maybe you take Chloe here, dash over to the repair ship, get the 'uh' gear, and run back here."
"Okay, what are you going to do in the meantime?" Sam asked.
"Stall for time." Dean replied. Seeing that both his brother and Chloe were about to argue or protest the suggestion, Dean decided. "Look, I don't have time right now to argue about it, either go or stay, okay?"
A black teenager came around the block, and greeted Chloe, but it his bad luck to cross directly into the path of the stricken but by no means defeated ghost. The ghost immediately sensed the presence of another life energy source and attacked.
The ghost opened up its mouth and latched onto the kid's arm. He yelped and his dusky black skin went several shades paler.
"Pete!" Chloe screamed. "Look out!"
"You know this guy?" Dean asked.
"What's it want with him?"
"Odd as this may sound, "Dean replied. "I think it feeds offa life force energy."
Chloe nodded. "That makes sense."
"It does?" Dean and Sam both said at the same time, looking at her in a funny way.
"Weird things happen on a pretty regular basis in these parts, so yeah, in a bizarre freakish short of way, that actually does make sense," Chloe replied.
"Okay, okay, come on, Chloe, if we're going help your friend over there, and stop that thing we need to get the uh' gear from the car. Come with me,' Sam sighed.
And began running through and past the parking lot, to the main street and down the two or three blocks that lay between him and the auto body shop.
What with his long legs Sam quickly covered more ground, forcing Chole to run double-time in order to keep up. She did not care for the whole idea of splitting up, or of leaving Dean and poor unconscious Peter alone with the freakish monster, but it could not be helped.
Whatever this 'gear' was, it was obliviously quite important. And she had to admit she had been curious to begin with, and the reporter in her nature wanted to get the whole story, but she also wanted to help.
Meanwhile Dean had used up the other packet of rock salt and had taken up a defensive position behind the tank of propane gas that he had found in the rear of the diner.
Ghosts didn't like heat, or light, and he was willing to bet, that he set a match to the open end of the tank, the resulting explosion would likely take out both the cars in the parking lot, himself, and the ghost. But, as he eyed the ghost's location , that was a last-ditch plan.
"Where the hell is Sam and that girl, Chloe, with our guns? They should have been back by now."
"More!" More energy! The ghost screeched, the sound loud enough to force Dean to reach up and cover his ears with his hands. "Yeah, yeah, we get it. Just shut the hell up about it already!"
The ghost leapt up and balanced it self on the top of the propane tank, forcing Dean to back pedal a bit to stay out of reach of its spindly arms and chilly fingers.
Dean made a face at it, and twiddled his fingers at it.
At that moment, Sam and Chloe reappeared on the scene, Sam throwing a long barreled rifle on the run to his brother, who nodded his thanks and turned back to face the very
Hungry and not yet sated ghost. "End of the road, darling," Dean muttered and aimed and fired the gun, with Sam backing him up from farther back.
"You're going to kill it?" Chloe asked.
"It's already dead, Chloe. We just need to send it back to wherever it came from,' Sam said.
The specialized shells pumped into the spectral figure, it crouched and twisted in pain,
But the combined effect of both the packets of rock salt earlier, and the specialized ammo were simply too much for it, and was forced backward, until the ghost lost its ability to assume a human form and dissipate back into green mist.
"That was definitely a case to go up on my Wall of Weird," Chloe remarked. "Were can I get a gun like those?"
"Stick to journalism, at least in that job they give you hazard pay," Sam grinned.
"Not up to you, cowboy," Chloe returned the grin. "So, what do you to do for an encore?"
"The things I do for pretty girls," Dean muttered in mingled admiration and disgust.
"Let's go pick up the car, and get out of here, okay?"
Scene 7 Conclusion
A day or so later, back at the Torch newspaper office Chloe was filing the last of the proofs to go into the next edition, when she came across a newspaper clipping that included, among other things, a photo of the two Winchester brothers. The caption underneath the picture read: "Locals credit two brothers with solving the mystery of a phantom hitchhiker that had terrorizing Route 66 on and off for the past twenty five years."
"Ghost hunters, brothers, charming, handsome, yeah I could see how that might happen."
Chloe thought to herself with one hand hovering over the button on her computer to download both the article and the accompanying photograph to her personal archive file.
"And here I thought that Smallville had the market cornered when it came to weirdness and freaky events," Chloe smiled. "Okay, guys, what's your deal, and how come you seem to know so much about ghosts and ghouls, and other assorted monsters?"
Chloe smiled at the thought. "I've always considered myself a rational, skeptical person. I want to be a serious reporter, once I graduate from high school, that is. Part of journalism is to be objective, get the whole story. Until Clark came around I never believed in the paranormal, the sheer weirdness that came with along with the meteorite rocks. That is until I witnessed with my own two eyes, this is different."
She keyed the download button and sat back to wait for it. Leaning back in her desk chair she smiled and thought of Dean Winchester, You really know how to reach a girl, Dean, you charming bastard. I am going to find out what you and your brother are up to, and when I do, you are so going to get me in on the action."