Title: Father Time
DeanWinchester & Chloe Sullivan
Genre: Fluff/Romance/Lovey-Dovey
PG-13/R Simply based on the plot.
Summary: Miracles are seldom planned. Especially for the hunter & intrepid reporter. One shot.
Do not own. Do not sue. Kthxbai.
Please! I'm a glutton and I'll take what I can get!

Father Time

"I really don't know what to say."

"I mean, you're sure. Right?"

His hands reach for the mess of short hair, unkempt from the night before. Internal hopes that what she is saying can't be true. Or just maybe that he wants it so much, words escape entirely.

He looks at her. A pale colored sheet wraps loosely around her naked form; her hair and face full with ambiguous expressions, exhaustion due to the lack of rest plaguing her body.

"Very sure, Dean."

Three words. No, not those three words. Deep within, he knew he would give his last second on Earth to hear that foreboding tale of futures roll off her tongue, but right now, weight was placed on what was actually said.

He slides his legs, torso and arms closer to hers, watches as she follows the path his eyes trail on her. Close enough now, his breath warm on her throat, a hand stretches to touch her cheek, seeking the hot skin beneath her golden hair.

A smile he hadn't expected to see graces her beautiful face, and for a second he imagines what features his own would inherit, knowing how genetics can be funny that way. He should know: mother's eyes, fathers legs and a bad attitude the road instilled on him not so long ago. Dean knew most of the human creative genius started here, with two people wordlessly in love, having not a clue in the world.


He feels her head snap back to his one word sentence, and a gasp loud enough to wake his brother in the next room over is heard.

Fingers first, then a heated palm grasp his jaw line, forcing his eyes to meet her own.


He notices the happiness behind her firm eyes, but doesn't give it away. Not for himself or for her. This is one jewel he intends to leave untouched, it's meaning too precious.

"You heard me."

She slips. Her face breaks out into a grin she has never worn in front of him, and for a moment, time seems to separate, light and space exploding all around them. Static electricity ignites the matter surrounding their two bodies, and a completion is felt throughout the room.

"Are you serious?"

"You know what this means?"

"What will we do?"

Her words of worry and concern bounce off sound encased walls, their echoes falling on his now deaf ears. He smiled as he kissed her neck, his fingertips running slow trails down her shoulders, curving towards her center.

He quiets her words by covering her lips with his own, their tongues meeting again for the first time, now as two partners in creative crime. It wasn't meant to be, but miracles are seldom planned.

Breaking their peace, her lays her down, the bed too big for them both; every inch needing to be conquered using their unexpected gift as fuel.


He closes his eyes at the sound of her calling to him.


She giggles the laugh that is meant only for his ears, and then places a hand over her stomach.

"This is okay?"

He shakes his head and leans himself over top of her. Going in for a kiss he diverts his attention to a lower, more sensitive area and rests his head softly against her belly.

"You can't feel anything yet, Dean."

He brings himself up, shoulders shrugging in semi defeat.

"I've never been a father before, so bare with me sweetheart."

She laughs. Again.

He settles in beside her, breath warming exposed skin from top to bottom. Soon she feels him fall into sleep, his hand resting just above her navel.

It was six weeks, four days and nearly eighteen hours in to what would surely change both their lives, and neither wanted any other fate in this world.