Title: Weird Ohio
Disclaimer: I obviously do not own any of these characters. No harm is intended by using them for this story or for future stories.
Summary: Dean walks into a bar…
Chapter 1
He hunched his shoulders against the night's light drizzle and slowly opened the door of the Sly and Fox to a typical bar scene. Cigarette smoke and the scent of stale beer wafted towards him. The crack of pool balls colliding and raucous laughter met him as he stepped into the crowded room.
Sauntering up to the main bar directly across from the door, he took a seat at the only available barstool and waited. The only bartender ran back and forth between patrons with the deftness of a seasoned pro.
"What'll it be man?" The bartender asked while setting down a cocktail napkin.
"What've you got on tap?"
"Miller Lite, Bud Lite, Molson, and Budweiser. And I've got Sam Adams, Blue Moon, and Heineken in bottles."
"I'll take a Miller Lite. Tall."
The bartender nodded and bent down to grab a glass. "You wanna open a tab?" he asked as he placed the practically overflowing glass on top of the cocktail napkin.
"Naw man I'm good."
"Alright. That's two fifty."
Once the bartended turned away, he took a long draught of his beer. This was the fourth night in a row he had sat at the Sly and Fox. He had come to this god forsaken town in nowheresville, Ohio under the pretenses that his farther would be there. Just like every other town, his dad was nowhere to be seen. Sure, there were clues all over the place that he had been there, but the key word was 'had'.
Bringing the glass to his lips he gulped the rest and set it back down a little more forcefully then intended.
As though with a sixth sense, the bartender walked back, "Want another?"
While pulling out his wallet, he nodded. Slapping three bills on the bar, he grabbed the refilled glass. Sighing, he looked around. His gaze fell on a pretty brunette sitting at the far end of the bar. He had seen her for the past three nights in the same seat and here she was again.
He was deciding whether or not he was in the mood to flirt, when she stood up. His eyes followed her as she made her way to the ladies room. Sighing again, he took a deep sip of his beer.
Suddenly, he felt a presence to his right and turned his head ever so slightly. As if someone answered his prayer, he was happy to come face to face with the brunette.
"I've noticed this is the fourth night in a row you've been in here. Most outsiders don't stay that long." It was a statement, definitely not a question.
He looked into her eyes and was taken aback by the color. They were brown alright but more amber colored. "Hi. My name's Dean. Now I'm not a stranger anymore."
She cocked an eyebrow at him, "Do you really think that one's gonna work?"
"Hey, I thought I'd give it a try."
"Well, Dean – my name's Danielle. Nice to meet you too. So, what brings you to Chardon?"
There were several ways he could answer her question. He could lie and say that he was an under cover FBI agent on the hunt for a runaway fugitive. He could tell her that he and his brother were on a road trip, which was a half truth. Or he could go with the full truth and tell her that he was in town to kill a vengeful spirit which had started kidnapping and murdering people.
He was definitely thinking of lying. He really loved to use the under cover FBI agent story, but there was something in her eyes that told him she would read right through his bull shit.
He decided with the half truth, "My brother and I are on a road trip across the country and we didn't really map out this leg of the trip very well."
"This isn't exactly right off the highway," she pressed.
"Yeah. We didn't realize how far we had driven." Nope, she was definitely not going to buy his bullshit.
"Where's your brother at?"
"I left him back at the motel. I needed to get away from him for awhile."
"Which place are you staying?"
"We got a room at the Cleveland Motel."
She crinkled her nose at the mention of the place. "Oh God, why? Ya know there was an article in the Cleveland Plain Dealer not that long ago about that place. They said that it 'isn't fit for human habitation'. I hope you are going to sterilize yourself when you check out."
"Now that you've told me that," he laughed.
"I hear the place does have Magic Fingers though," she winked.
"You know, some people just don't appreciate the Magic Fingers," they both smiled at each other. It was then that Dean noticed the large dimples Danielle had in both cheeks. He decided at that moment, he really liked dimples.
"Well, it was nice talkin' with you," Danielle said as she backed away from the bar.
"Hey, it's late. Let me walk you to your car," Dean offered, standing up.
"Oh, that's really nice of you but I called for a ride."
"Well, at least let me walk you outside. I can wait with you."
Danielle brushed her long hair behind her shoulders and looked up at Dean. "Okay. I'd like that."
She led the way through the crowd. As she opened the door, they were greeted by the late summer breeze. The light drizzle had stopped but the humidity remained.
"Which car is yours?" Danielle asked as she looked around the poorly lit parking lot.
"I drive the black '67 Chevy Impala over in the back corner," Dean motioned towards his baby.
"Shut up. Are you fucking kidding me? Those cars are classic Americana."
"You're joking right?" Dean asked incredulously. "You like cars?"
"Totally. My dad is a mechanic here in town. He owns the shop down the street from here," she said while jerking her hand behind her.
"Well, I might have to stop by there tomorrow. I actually need to buy a new set of tires before my brother and I get back on the road."
"Can I see it?" Danielle asked.
"Sure."
After making their way through the parking lot, Danielle gushed over the vehicle. "The last time I saw a '67 Impala in this good condition was at a classic car show my dad took me to a few years ago."
"Thanks. I try to keep her in tip top shape but it isn't always easy," he commented.
"The gas mileage can't be too good, huh?"
"No it isn't." Dean stepped in closer, leaned in, and kissed her.
She slowly pulled away. "Gas mileage and kissing…where's the connection?" Danielle stood on her tip toes and drew his face back towards hers. Gradually she pushed him back against the still wet hood.
"So, are you the type to call in the morning?" Danielle teased as she climbed on top of him.
"How about I take you to breakfast?"
They were too wrapped up in each other to feel the eyes watching from the darkened tree line…
