The man standing in front of her kept calling her Rose. Last time she checked, Chloe Sullivan's name wasn't the most popular Valentine's Day flower. She was just trying to walk back to her apartment after a long, grueling day at the Daily Planet, but this tall, lean, incredibly good-looking man kept blocking her path. She had to crane her neck completely up just to make eye contact with him. A mistake, she thought, slightly distracted and surprised at the warmth and familiarity in the stranger's deep, intelligent hazel eyes. It was if he knew her or something.
"Excuse me?" Chloe finally asked, the afternoon sun making her squint in an effort to size up this Goliath standing before her, a bemused expression on his face.
"Come on, Rose," he said, his voice a deep, rumbling tenor, as if he was trying hard to keep from laughing. It sent shivers of unexpected pleasure running down her spine. "Has it been that long? Don't you remember me?"
Remember him? Chloe wondered, her eyes wide with shock, the only thing keeping her from losing herself in the dimpled, friendly smile on his face. How could she ever forget this face? the eyes? the devastating smile? "I swear, I don't know who you are," she stated firmly, trying to move around him in an attempt to pass. If she'd seen this man before, she really would have recalled the date, time, and place. As it was, his face would be branded on her mind for good.
The smile faltered. "It's Sam Winchester." His voice was all confusion and hurt. "What kind of game are you playing this time?" His hand grasped her arm gently but suddenly, trying to arrest her departure, but she swiveled around, whipping out her can of mace from her purse.
The look on Sam Winchester's face troubled her – the frown and shock made her hand tremble slightly – but Chloe took a deep breath and maintained her stance. "Look, my name is not Rose. Never has been, never will be. So please, let me ass before I spray you down and call the cops."
Smiling sheepishly, as if he didn't understand but was slightly ashamed, Sam released her and held his hands up in mock surrender. "Okay, I'll bite. What's your name, then?" The dimpled grin returned as he spoke, the air between them changing back to one of fun. Clearly, he thought this was a game, because he crossed his arms and did not move.
"Chloe," she spat angrily, her voice venomous, "Chloe S—Johnson. Now, leave me alone before I start shooting." She had never intended to use it, of course, but generally pointing it at a potential assailant generally worked for her. In journalism, she had learned early on, you had to take steps to protect yourself.
"Okay… Chloe," Sam replied with his wide, cheeky grin on his handsome, lean face. Chloe suddenly felt butterflies in her stomach, a reaction from this man trespassing on her time, she reminded herself. Not because he was looking at her with those keen, observant eyes. Not because she had caught said eyes lingering on her face and body as if he couldn't help himself. Not because his smile was so bright it could light up half of Metropolis, or that the urge to lick those well-defined dimples nearly made her weak-kneed. "…what game you're playing this time, but we're in town and Dean's looking for you."
Chloe shook herself out of her reverie about his dimples. "Huh? Dean?" she said loudly, the mace in her hand faltering slightly. Where had she heard that name before? "I don't know anyone named Dean." The mace can shot back up, her face stony with determination – even as her eyes kept straying to his full, beautiful lips.
Sam seemed to grow uncomfortable suddenly, because he appeared to shrink despite his height. Who could blame the guy? she supposed. After all, she was eyeing him like a piece of meat while threatening to blind him with pepper spray. His look of utter confusion, of keen interest, however, surprised her. Why would he be interested in her?
A quirky smile tugged at his lips, the small action making her heart jump in her chest. "Last time I checked, you and Dean were pretty hot and heavy. You telling me you've found someone else?"
Chloe blinked in surprise. This handsome, completely adorable looking, college boy wannabe assumed she had a boyfriend? Had she jumped into a parallel universe? She didn't have boyfriends: she had obsessions. Well, one obsession, actually… and that hadn't turned out well, at all. "What? No, I – I have no idea what you're talking about. I don't have a boyfriend, I don't know a Dean, and I don't know you. Can I make myself any clearer?!"
Even as she spoke the words, she regretted them. This guy, whoever he was, didn't deserve to be spoken to like that… even if he was creeping her out just a little by the sensations he was arousing in her. His shaggy hair, while it looked like a barber had used garden shears to cut it, fell across his face nicely, accentuating his strong cheek bones and dark eyes. Those eyes grew solemn with every word she uttered and emphasized. When her rant was finally finished, Sam nodded and broke eye contact, looking down at his large feet.
Unconsciously, her eyes followed his and she lowered the can of mace.
"Okay," he whispered, his voice filled with a confused defeat. "Guess I have you mixed up with someone else. Sorry to have bothered you." Turning, he strode away and down the street, moving quickly away from her. Leaving her with a uncertain, almost sorrowful look on her face. She looked up and watched him walk away, his shoulders hunched down though his long legs carried him around the corner in long, sure strides.
Chloe blew out a heavy breath, depositing the mace back in her purse. She had put the burden on those strong shoulders, she thought, heading for the nearest coffee shop. She had taken what could have been a golden opportunity to maybe go out with a nice-looking, obviously clean cut guy, and what did she do? "Chloe Sullivan," she muttered inaudibly. "Man Repellant Extraordinaire. Boy, I sure know how to chase them off, hot or not." She needed a latte. A large, foamy one. That and chocolate might drown her sorrows for a night.
She ignored the prickles of awareness on her neck then, telling her someone was watching her walk away.
&&&&&
An hour and a large latte later, Chloe found herself trying to relax by the fire she had started in the living room gas fireplace. A flick of a switch and instant fire: one of the many things she loved about her apartment in downtown Metropolis.
The encounter with that handsome stranger was just too weird for words. Dangerously sexy, but weird. And there was an aspect about him she found interesting, even fascinating. Snatching her laptop, she started researching this Sam Winchester for anything news-worthy… or illegal, for that matter. His smile should definitely be forbidden, she mused, typing his name into Google and hitting the 'Enter' key. The results page pulled up quickly, and her eyes grew wide with surprise at the sheer number of hits from the search engine alone: among other sites, his name was listed on the FBI's database. She clicked on it just as her cell phone chirped.
"Sullivan," she answered automatically, not paying attention to the caller ID since she was much more involved with the Most Wanted List.
"Hey, stranger," a familiar voice on the other end chimed sarcastically. Chloe looked away from her laptop and smiled.
"Lois," she replied, a smile and smirk in her voice, "I'm glad to hear from you, too." She set the computer aside momentarily and kicked her feet onto the coffee table.
"Oh, you're funny," her cousin retorted, almost as if she was angry. In fact, Chloe could hear the blatant sarcasm dripping with each word. "I haven't heard from you in eons, and you just suddenly appeared this afternoon at the Talon, grabbed your large foam latte and took off without saying hello? That was totally rude."
Chloe felt her hair prickle on the back of her neck in fear. She bolted upright in her seat, legs sliding off the coffee table and feet hitting the floor with a loud thud. "Lois, what are you talking about? I know I haven't been available lately, with the deadlines I've had to meet and being super busy. But I've not been in Smallville. Definitely not today." Thoughts of Sam Winchester sprung to mind and she shivered: what if she did have a twin? What if Sam had been actually interested in her? What if there had been something there she completely missed?
The what ifs could have driven her insane, but they stopped when she heard Lois's sharp intake of breath. "Then… where are you?"
"Where else? Metropolis. At home." She was vaguely annoyed at her cousin's response. Her surprise.
"Well, according to Lana, you showed up at the Talon not an hour ago, buying your latte and two black coffees with a cheesy grin on your face that would blind anybody." Lois sounded as surprised as she did.
"Chloe snorted at Lana's name, however. "I can't believe Lana Lang-Luthor condescended to appear at the Talon for anything." Ever since Lana had become Mrs. Lex Luthor, their friendship had turned into nothing more than a strained acquaintance. It was distant, on the verge of extinction. The long conversations they used to have over cups of hot chocolate when they were roommates at Met U were long gone: cold civility was all that remained.
Of course, that tends to happen when you hate your friend's diabolical, demonic husband.
"Hey, don't look at me," Lois had been saying. "I met her on my way to see Martha Kent over some documents she needed to sign when I bumped into her. Lana asked about you, wanted to know how you were doing. She looked really irritated about that, though."
Chloe blinked in surprise. "Irritated?" Why would Lana be mad at her? she thought with a puckered brow.
"After a game of twenty questions, she finally told me about seeing you and how you acted like you didn't know her. She said you totally brushed off her greeting with an icy look."
Trust Lana to make everything all about herself, Chloe thought wearily, a grimace on her face. She stood up and padded to the kitchen to get a glass of wine. "Believe me when I say I didn't snub Lana. In fact, I was…" Her words died away when she realized she had been engaged in that mind-blowing, strangely exciting conversation with a man who would haunt her dreams tonight. Whom she would probably never see again. Who knew her by Rose.
Never missing a beat, Lois immediately asked, "You were where? With a guy, I'm betting. Has your celibate streak finally ended?" Chloe could almost imagine the knowing grin on Lois's face and would have liked to smack it off of her, had they been in the same room.
"Kinda. I mean, he was tall, dark, and handsome. And he seemed to know me, which I thought was weird since I'd never seen him before in my life."
Her cousin groaned in frustration. "Oh no. Don't tell me the mace made an appearance again." When Chloe said nothing, Lois sighed heavily. "Girl, when will you realize that tall, dark, and handsome men aren't just going to show up out of the blue like that? Was he that good-looking?"
She thought about Sam's dazzling smile – the dimples, giving him a boyish yet manly look – the hair falling over his intelligent hazel eyes. The lean body she knew must have been built with taut muscle, hidden by his oversized shirt and jacket. And groaned aloud. "God, yes, he was." She took a drink of her wine and headed back to her plush couch and laptop. "But I think he's wanted by the Feds." She glanced once again at her computer screen, took in his picture there, and frowned. He and someone named Dean Winchester – his brother? she wondered – were wanted to a string of illegal activities ranging from identity theft to armed robbery. It looked like Sam had been more of an accessory or accomplice. Little relief, that, she thought.
Lois laughed in derision. "Gee, it's not like you don't have criminals as reliable sources of information for your editorials. Why not be attracted to one, too?"
Sighing, Chloe ignored her cousin's pointed remark. Nevermind she had made a valid point: she was attracted to Sam Winchester. And she would probably never lay eyes on him again. Regret settled in her stomach, making it ache slightly. "Whatever, Lois. I have to go. The story I'm working on – LuthorCorp's latest fiasco – is due in the morning and I have a lot of work to do." Which was partially the truth: she actually needed to write the article. Sam's faint smile from his picture on the screen mocked her, called to her.
"Fine, take away my fun," her cousin complained in a teasing voice. "Call me if you find out whether you have an evil twin… and about this guy, too. I definitely want to know more about him."
Chloe smiled. "And definitely call me if you happen to see another me walking around. At least that way, you'll know I'm not snubbing you." After a few more civilities, the cousins ended their conversation and Chloe leaned back into the cushions, sipping on her drink while gazing at Sam's face staring back at her from the laptop screen.
Nevermind the LuthorCorp editorial, she decided after a moment, setting her glass on the end table and reaching for her computer. It could practically write itself. Sam Winchester was definitely the better, more appealing topic of the two stories. She browsed through the site, her face set in deep concentration. She was determined to learn more about him, whom she assumed was his brother… and that look-a-like named Rose.