A.N.--I was listening to this song (the Damien Rice version), and even though I know that this isn't the type of music that Dean would listen to, it felt appropriate. I feel vaguely bad that I wasn't listening to the Radiohead version, but the mix CD didn't have it on there.

When you were here before,
Couldn't look you in the eye
You're just like an angel,
Your skin makes me cry

You float like a feather
In a beautiful world
I wish I was special
You're so very special

But I'm a creep,
I'm a weirdo
What the hell am I doin' here?
I don't belong here

He stretched languidly, trying to remember what it'd felt like a year ago to feel her beside him. Instead, when he opened his eyes he was just in another trashy motel, his brother lying a few feet away in his own bed. It's not like he expected her to be there. He was realistic. But in his dreams, it felt like it was a year ago, and her small body was tucked in neatly beside his.

Dean played with the phone in his lap, trying not to think about the circumstances that had separated him from Chloe. She was everything he wanted in a girl. Strong, tough, spunky, with just enough spark to keep things interesting. She worked well with Sam and him, managed to remain past a one night stand, and didn't mind moving from place to place. She was on the run, something he understood enough not to ask her about. He wasn't even sure he would've told her if she hadn't been attacked by the vampires first.

He still remembered the day. Sam and he had infiltrated a nest of vampires that they knew for sure were out for the human variety of blood. He wanted to kill them quickly so he could salt their bones and burn them and move on. Something about his job was getting less as time progressed. He knew he still had to keep on keeping on, but he wasn't sure if he could hold out much longer.

Dean went in first, leading with his gun, Sam following behind him with a sawed off. In the first room alone they managed to dust two, a couple he guessed from the way the girl responded to the death of her mate. Continuing into what he and Sam knew to be the last of the rooms, he found two vampires wrapped in each other, the man rising from the bed, the sheet falling to wrap itself around his waist. That wasn't what caught his attention though. What caught Dean's attention was the blonde girl tied around a post on the floor, glaring defiantly at him and her captors.

Before he could really think about any of this, Sam took the first shot at the man, and he shot second at the woman, both dead before they could raise more out of the bed. What surprised him more was the fact that the girl didn't seem the least bit shaken by any of this.



"You okay?" Sam went in first. He was better at dealing with civilians.

"Fabulous. Those two have been going at it like a porno for the last two hours. You'd think I wasn't even here."

"Listen, this may sound a little odd, but did they bite you at all? Did any of their blood transfer?" Sam was half way through their regular vampire sermon when she stopped him.

"Look, I know they're vampires. And no, there were no bites, no sex, and nothing that would transfer blood from them to me. I've just been here long enough to see positions I've never seen."

"Oh, I'm sure they're nothing special," Dean smirked, before returning to the bodies, throwing salt on the newly redead flesh. He turned to see Sam glaring disapprovingly at him while the blonde just smirked back at him.

"Honey, I could do things to you that would make you blush," she smiled with enough of an angelic flair for him to forget himself for a minute and genuinely smile.

"Oh I doubt that."

"Back to the point at hand," Sam went back to his law school days and took charge, "Ms…" he left it hanging for her to fill in.

"Chloe. Just Chloe."
"what, are you like Madonna or Prince?"

"I'm surprised your musical knowledge goes that far into the future," she smiled at his confusion, "Please, I can tell by looking at you your one true love was Led Zeppelin."

"I'm impressed," he looked at Sam, "think she's another psychic?"

"No, just an intrepid reporter. And you don't have to pretend like this whole supernatural thing is a joke. I know all about this stuff."

"Sure you do," Dean replied, snark at full force.

"I run the Wall of the Weird site. But seeing as how you don't believe in music that has been performed live in this generation, I doubt you've heard of that," Dean could see from Sam's face that he had, "I do the whole meteor freak thing, and it stands to reason if people like that exist, then demons and vampires should too. Not to mention those two had more than a regular blood fetish."

"Wait. Chloe Sullivan?" Sam completely broke their cover of detached bystanders. Taking out the lighter fluid to drench the bodies, he shook his head. Boy always was a sucker for a pretty face.

"Yeah, I see you have heard of me."
"A little. I check up on your Wall of the Weird site when I can. Purely recreational of course."



"Of course."

"You do some really interesting work."

"Thank you." Sam had untied her somewhere along the line, and she was watching with some form of morbid fascination as Dean set the bodies on fire, leaving them as he went to the next room. Everything was done quickly, "Do you need us to take you somewhere?"

"Lets see. Before they grabbed me I was at the motel on 65. I figure my car and stuff is still there, if I can find the key," she felt up her pocket before pulling out the brass key with a bright key tag. She glowed before looking back at Sam, totally ignoring Dean, who prickled slightly with irritation. Whatever. If she wanted to make doe eyes and share girly movie moments with his little bro, then okay.

"We'll take her and then be on our way," he led the way outside, closing the trunk before she could notice the massive arsenal of weapons he stored there.

"Damn. A '67 Chevy Impala?" Dean thought his heart might stop when she said that. It took a good woman to think his car was sexy. It took a really good woman to know what his car was. She smiled at him again, "It's good to know about cars when you're trying to pick up guys."

"Are you trying to pick me up Blondie?"

"Why, is it working?"

"You have no idea." She glanced over, and he got the impression that he was being compared to someone else. Then her gaze focused directly on his crotch.

"If it is working, then there's not much down there, is there?" she smirked before climbing in the back seat. Sam looked ready to laugh.

"Shut up and get in the car," Dean knew where the motel was. It was where the brothers were staying before they headed out again, but he wasn't about to let the "intrepid reporter" know that. She'd probably try and hang out or something like that, and as amusing as it was to watch his brother moon over her, she was trying his nerves. That or he was starting to like her. Both were completely ridiculous.

Thinking of that day now, he was shocked to find he still remembered all of the details. How he had been impressed by her spunk and her knowledge of his car, how he was annoyed at her blatantly turning him down. It couldn't have been that long ago. 2 years? It had to be two years ago that he had met Chloe Sullivan, and it was two years later that he regretted letting her go.

(R and R)