The extended final drabble from "Five Times John Met Chloe, And One Time He Didn't" - the official advice is to read that first, or this will make very little sense.
Chloe!power.... enjoy.
Interference
Chloe needs to save the troublesome Winchester boys from the FBI, without alerting the MPD, FBI, CIA, DHS or Clark. She rolls her shoulders and cracks her fingers. This is going to take some serious skill. Good thing Oliver is always up for a little meddling mischief; he's had it in for the FBI since what she refers to as "That-Embarrassing-Time-Ollie-Got-Caught-With-" and that's as far as she gets before he stops her.
Three days, twenty-two cups of coffee and ten hours sleep later and she has a plan, it's all in place, but she'll need the Winchester boys to know about it, she can't have them going and ruining all her hard work, because this is pure genius. Even Bart was impressed. Now to find them.
She does what she does best and tracks the Winchester boys to Darby, Idaho – they're probably hunting something in Bitterroot National Park. She hitches a lift from Bart, who's on his way to Canada for maple syrup, and arrives at their door with her laptop over her shoulder and twenty-third coffee still in hand.
When Dean opens the door to a curvy blonde, he does exactly what she expected and leers. She raises an eyebrow and pushes her way in – she's particularly good at that, being a reporter, people try and shut doors on her all the time – and Sam, who was sitting on the bed, has a gun on her instantly. She knows Dean is the same right behind her.
"Stay calm and don't shoot." She looks Sam in the eyes as she reaches behind her, ignoring the handgun at her neck and gropes around Dean's thighs. He yells out and jerks away, but not before her fingers land on the hip flask at his side and she pulls it toward her, downing two swallows of the holy water.
The guns don't move. She rolls her eyes, and with a muttered honestly strides across to their table, laden with various weapons, taking a pinch of salt and downing that too. Still, they don't move the guns, so she pulls a silver knife from the table and slices her forearm cleanly.
Sam lowers the gun first, and then she hears Dean click the safety back on. She pulls her shirt sleeve down to hide the rapidly healing line and answers the question on Sam's open lips.
"Chloe Sullivan. You don't know me, but I know you."
Dean has moved around in front of her, and has an immensely sceptical look on his face. "Yeah? Why would that be?"
"Your father asked me to… keep an eye on you." Sam's jaw tightened and Dean tensed. She continued anyway – they're just like John, really. "I have some… skills which he found very useful, and I promised to keep tabs for him. I'm sorry about that you couldn't know, but he asked particularly. That was then, though. Things have changed, and it's time I intervened." She smiles faintly at the memory. Only John Winchester would break out of heaven to tell her to intervene in the affairs of his stubborn sons.
"Intervened?" Dean did not sound impressed.
"Yes. Your hunting is far too important for the FBI to put you behind bars for a little grave desecration, and really, Milwaukee? That was a shapeshifter, yes? But still, sloppy work."
Dean sat on the bed opposite Sam and Chloe took it as a cue to sit, dragging a chair from the table to face them.
Sam spoke, "Yeah, so you-?"
"Know. Oh yes. More than you could possibly imagine." A smirk, "Now, about your deaths,"
The Winchesters spoke in unison, "Our deaths?"
Chloe sighed and calmly explained. There were dedicated FBI agents who wanted to find them, so she couldn't just make the files disappear as she usually might. It called for something a little more dramatic.
They looked interested now, and Dean quirked an eyebrow, "Dramatic how, exactly?"
She smiled, she loved this part. "You idiots managed to get your fingerprints on file, so I had to switch them around with a pair of unfortunate minor criminals who died while fleeing the Green Arrow in Metropolis last night. They fit your general description anyway, but even so I've put a special call note on their electronic file – so if you two manage to get caught again in the near future I'll get a priority call directly from whichever d-grade cop hauled you in and I can come sort it out before they realise who you are."
They've moved from interested to impressed, despite the insult to their skill in evading police, and she knows that Sam, at least, understands her level of skill if she can hack into the FBI files and switch around evidence without being noticed. Dean has to ask though, "So, we're on file as these random guys now. Why not just delete those files now?"
"It takes some time Dean, and the two actions close together might arouse suspicion. I need to let the heat on you two die down first, because someone with enough drive might notice them, and with enough digging they'll find some trace. I'm good, but on computers, everything leaves a trace, however minute. I'll deal with the other files in due course, the phone alert is temporary." Sam was nodding along, grin widening as he cottoned on. Just like John said – sharp as a tack, that one. Dean, however, wasn't finished yet. As she had been warned, he'd play the military angle; want to know how the plan would play out, sharpen and refine the details.
"And the fake us? The dead criminals?"
She smirked. "This is the fun part." She rose, "I took the liberty of switching out your license plates last night." Dean looks like she's mortally offended him, and Sam chuckled. "Calm down, Dean, it was necessary." She crossed to the TV and switched it on, "It should be breaking now."
Sam raised an eyebrow, "What's breaking?"
She smirked again, "News of your deaths. Watch." She flicked to a news channel and sat back watch her handiwork come together.
She glanced at Sam and Dean's faces as the story of the epic speeding car chase that ended in a crashing ball of fire and the deaths of the two wanted criminals inside was relayed with footage from the birdwatchers who'd been hiking the trails near the highway overpass with their video cameras. Video cameras quietly purchased two days prior by Artemis Consortium. The video she's constructed would convince the FBI it was the Winchesters in the car, without making their true appearance public knowledge and the bodies would be too damaged by the exploding car for more than a general description by the M.E. Too bad the FBI would have to rely on the finger prints embedded in the leather of the wheel by the fire for identification.
When the news switched to a break, Chloe turned the TV off and turned to the brothers expectantly. "I'm good, huh?"
Instantly, there were two guns on her yet again. They're so suspicious.
"What do you want?"
Chloe sighed and reached for the holy water.
Winchesters.
