Title: Born On A Monday
Verse: Supernatural/Smallville Crossover
Genre: Romance/Angst/Adventure
Pairing: Chloe/Dean, mention of Chloe/Oliver
Rating: M for language, violence & sexual suggestion
Disclaimer: I own nothing. But dear god, how I wish I could own Dean Winchester. :)
Summary: As Sam disappears to search for Ava, Dean and Chloe are thrown together again to hunt a monster through the swamps outside of Gotham City. In only seven days, what could possibly go wrong?
A/N: Hi, all! I'M BACK! It's part 2 of the Sacrifice of Fate series! Sorry this took so long to get off the ground, but my life is a little crazy right now. I honestly don't know if I'll be able to keep up the pace I had for Mirrors and Dread at this particular second, due to other life commitments, but since this fic is only 7 chapters, I promise every chapter will be to the best of my ability, giving you the most I can for each day. Again, please keep an eye on my LJ if you'd like the MA versions of any of these chapters, and I'll let you know before each chapter starts. Hope you enjoy! This one is way more of a true hybrid of Supernatural and Smallville, so I decided to treat it a bit more like a Smallville episode format, with each chapter probably having a commercial break between. Mirrors and Dread felt much more like a two-part Supernatural sweeps episode. Thank you to EVERYONE who reviewed Mirrors and Dread, they were amazing and helped inspire me to keep going! Please Read and Review, they make me write faster!

Chapter One: Monday

Solomon Grundy
Born on a Monday

"Then... bye, I guess." Dean's words had hurt, but Chloe's mask of cold held firm as the older Winchester stomped to his car and shut the door behind him. In a way, that had been her intention. It was entirely likely that she'd never see the Winchesters again after today, but she could feel that Darkness coming. Both of the brothers needed to be as prepared as they could be for the coming days. They would see far worse things than those girls they were able to bring to a final rest.

Chloe turned her attention to Sam as he walked close, offering her her jacket in his hand. "Thanks." She smiled, taking it and giving it a onceover. "Bloodstains are hard to get out. But, I'm not ditching this jacket for anything." Her grin became a little more genuine as she looked up at Sam, only to fade again. His brow was furrowed, lips were pursed, he was clearly concerned. "What is it?"

Sam paused, swallowing, clearly debating what to say. "What happened back there..." He started, but words seemed to disappear. "I don't understand - "

"I'm not normal." Chloe chuckled, trying to allay his fears. Of course, she had a feeling he had several words running through his mind, and freak wasn't the least of them -

"Neither am I." Chloe paused, glancing up at him, her hair falling into her eyes again. Relief had washed over his face at the sudden admission from his lips. Not that Chloe necessarily knew what it meant, but, she'd never judged anyone just for being different. But, if he'd been different because he was a meta or a meteor freak, he could've told her at any time. "I think there's something wrong with me. And, I wanted to talk about it, but I guess... trusting people's gotten a little harder recently." A breathy laugh escaped his lips, one of half-shock. "Which is... so weird. Dean's normally the one telling me not to trust anyone."

"Sam, whatever it is, you can talk to me." Chloe's hair tickled at her cheek as a gentle breeze blew through the trees.

"Yeah..." Sam's fingers brushed against her cheek to tuck her hair behind her ear, and Chloe felt her heart skip a beat for just a second. "I guess I can." She smiled, but she felt her stomach flip for just a moment. It felt like Oliver.

She didn't know how she felt about that.

The blast of the Impala's car horn made her jump, and she chuckled, rolling her eyes. She tried to ignore the way her heart twisted in concern for the two brothers. A month together, and she wanted nothing more than to hop in the car and go with them on their next adventure. But, she knew what she had to do now. Fate had shown her. Lois. Clark. Sam. Dean. Oliver. They all died without the Touch of Fate.

"You should probably get going," Chloe grinned, motioning to the car. "I think Dean's gonna blow a gasket."

"Want a ride?" Sam motioned with his thumb to the car behind him, but she shook her head.

"No, thanks. I think I've upset him enough today." Chloe's own harsh words had left a bad taste in her mouth, and she'd wanted nothing more than to take them back, to tell Dean he had done everything he could and that it was okay to feel guilty. "The last thing I need to do is to poke the sleeping dragon."

"Well, you have our number. Call us if you need us."

"I will."

Sam's phone went right to voicemail.

"This is Sam. Leave a message."

An hour from Gotham, the rental car Chloe had boosted was flooring it at 105 MPH on the main highway. Well, to be fair, she hadn't necessarily boosted it. Her trip to Hub City had been cut irrevocably short so she couldn't return it, as Diana was sidetracked dealing with some purple-haired hooker calling herself "The Sorceress of Aeaea" and Chloe had been hit with another bolt of inspiration, thanks to Fate.

It comes. In the filth of Gotham. Fate's words had pulsed through Chloe's mind and her blood ever since she left Hub and checked a few news reports in Gotham City. The headlines piqued her reporter's curiosity, sure, but it was the talk of a monster raging through Slaughter Swamp, leaving two escaped Arkham inmates naked and traumatized that kept her attention. The Fate of the Sentient Power rests in seven days.

"Sam, pick up your phone." Chloe's eyes scanned the rear view mirror, giving another cursory check for sirens and lights. "It's your favorite Leggy Blonde, and I could use a little assistance from the best Hunters I know. I'm really hoping you didn't switch phones again and forget to tell me. It's hard to work my Beethoven-like skills on a keyboard while I'm living life in the fast lane." No sirens or lights. Good. Chloe kept the speedometer climbing as she spoke. "Call it reporter's instinct, but I have a feeling the two of you might've already heard about the thundering monster outside of Gotham City. I think it's your kind of gig, and I need your help tracking this thing." She paused again, lowering the phone a bit before raising it back up to speak. "Tell Dean it's about the Blur."

She tapped her smartphone to end the call, then tucked the phone in the breast pocket of her black jacket. While she'd spoken to Sam once or twice more in the month since leaving Delight, she hadn't really spoken to Dean except in third-person communication, as Sam passed along information. After that first week with Diana, unable to call Sam back, she was concerned they wouldn't talk to her at all. Dean certainly seemed ready to write her off. She'd even overheard him tell Sam that he didn't want to talk to her, since she was "an ungrateful, secretive woman that wasn't worth anyone's time".

Chloe tried not to take it personally. Success in a plan of this magnitude often came at the cost of friendships and lovers. She knew that. Her hesitation to act had almost led to the death of her cousin, and that could not happen. Not only was Lois a lynchpin in Chloe's life, in Clark's life, she was part of the Path. If she hadn't intercepted the original transmission and set it in place to be picked up by Watchtower, the plan probably would have gone off without a hitch, Lois would be dead, and Chloe would be facing a world without the one woman Clark needed more than anyone else. That The Blur needed.

Of course, nothing about this would help if the Winchesters didn't pick up their phones.

Chloe took an exit ramp to cross onto another highway and pulled her phone free. "Well..." She whispered, glancing at the name on the top of her contacts list. "Guess you better brush off that Sullivan charm."

"Ramble on...And now's the time, the time is now... Sing my song..."

Dean grabbed for his phone on the nightstand, reaching across the bed to do so. That better be Sammy. Sammy owed him one helluva explanation for the bullshit note he left on the motel table...

"Yello." Dean answered as he settled with a pillow under one arm while he lay on his stomach. After finding out that Sam had ditched him, Dean had gotten as far as pulling on jeans and a T-shirt, and one boot, which was hanging off of his foot at the moment.

"Wow. You picked up." That voice was - "I didn't expect that." Chloe. Chloe Sullivan. Blondie. Leggy Blonde. The woman who had been in just about every dream Dean had had in the last month, and he hated it, because he couldn't understand why. The woman who had been talking to his brother off and on for the last month, and that drove Dean almost as nuts as the fact that the last time he'd seen that woman, he didn't care how hot she was, she was giving him a lecture about how he needed to basically be a heartless douchebag. About kids.

Why did he pick up again?

"Chloe." Dean made sure to keep the nicknames out of his head. He didn't need his downstairs brain to start thinkin'. He opened his mouth to speak, then paused and shut it again. Why the hell was she callin'? He thought she was pretty clear last time that she had pretty much gotten her fill of them. Well, no. Dean grimaced. She got enough of him. Apparently, Chloe and her brother were practically BFFs with their Bedazzlers now.

"Yes... that would be my name." Fuck, she sounded chipper. Falsely so. Chipper like the mornings he'd bring her coffee and had already started researching two hours before them and why the fuck was he thinking about that? "Dean, I know you're still there. I can hear you breathing."

Dean sniffed some, clearing his sinuses and rolling onto his back so he could sit up and start to fix his boot. "Yeah, I'm here. Just tryin' to figure out why you're callin' me? I thought Samantha was your bestie-biffle now."

"Sam isn't picking up his phone." Worry for his brother settled into the pit of Dean's stomach. Not talking to him he could understand, but not talking to his pseudo-girlfriend? Yeah, something was up with Sammy. "To be fair, we've been playing phone tag for a week or two now, but I figured I'd just bite the bullet and go to you."

Dean smirked, even though no one else could see it. "Couldn't stay away, huh?" Dude, the fuck. This is not the time to flirt with this girl. She's buckets 'o' crazy, you know that! Sometimes, Dean's downstairs brain actually shocked him. This was one of those times. He was worried about his brother, and he was still angry with Chloe on a visceral level that made no sense.

"Right." Chloe's voice was an infuriating mix between mirth and sarcasm, and Dean found the desire to flirt getting stomped down pretty effectively. But, you know what? Fine. He didn't need to flirt with the Leggy Blonde. "Point being, I did call for a reason. There's something going on in Gotham, and I think the two of you would be interested - "

"Y'know what, Chlo? I don't actually think Sammy and I need you to tell us where to find our cases." Dean's mouth began to run away with him before he could stop it, and he honestly wasn't sure he wanted to. The last time he'd seen her, she'd been ungrateful, hard, cold and more than a little loony. It didn't matter that he'd been dreaming almost disgustingly domestic things about her that would turn pleasantly un-domestic. "We got our own things to do, so we're just gonna go ahead and run with that. You want help, you can call your cape friends." Like Oliver freakin' Queen. "I'm sure they don't care if a few kids get hit in the crossfire."

Dean hung up the phone just as a stone dropped in his stomach. That last one had been harsh. Real harsh. But not too harsh. He told himself as he held the phone in his hand, staring at it as if it would ring again. Nah, not too harsh at all. She deserved it. If she could be a heartless bitch who told him what he was supposed to think, then he could call her on it.

He felt his phone buzz in his hand, and the strains of Zeppelin began again. Unbe-freakin-lievable. Dean flipped it open with a huff, a retort already on his lips. "You got a problem hearin' things, Blondie - "

"Dean?" Sammy. Oh, Jesus tap-dancing Christ, his brother was okay. Well, for now. When he got back to the motel, that would be a different story. Dean didn't care if he was taller, he could still kick his ass for bein' a punk.

"Sammy? Where the hell are you?" Dean immediately raced to the motel room window, as if his oaf of a brother was about to come walking up to the door. Naturally, all he saw was the Impala with its new plates and an otherwise empty parking lot in their motel outside of Gotham City. Dean hated Gotham. Place gave him the creeps.

"I'm in Bludhaven. I got a lead on Ava, so I wanted to follow it." Sam sounded so totally fuckin' chill. Fuckin' really? Dean's heart had jumped to his throat the moment he realized his brother was missing, and here Sam was, happy as you please, hanging out in one of the most crime-ridden cities in America.

"What? And you didn't think maybe you could tell me before you just fucked off, Jumbo?" Dean let his frustration about both his brother, and now, Chloe's annoying call, to bleed through while he tried to give his brother the kind of tongue-lashing that would send him right back here. "You know who runs off to Bludhaven? The same kind of people who run off to Hub City. Crazy people!" He turned away from the window to march over to where his other boot was still on the floor, sitting down so he could slip it on. "You don't think maybe I'd wanna know where you were, dude? It's not like we haven't been looking for her - "

"But we haven't, Dean." Sam's voice had grown hard, serious.

Dean stopped trying to put on his shoe, sitting up with a furrowed brow and confused to all hell look on his face. "Excuse me?"

"We haven't been looking for Ava, Dean. We were up until we ran into Chloe, and then we got caught up with that stupid Shapeshifter." Sam sounded pissed off, and Dean's hackles practically rose. Really? Was he really that pissed off because they hadn't devoted every second to this woman? They'd been looking, but it was kinda hard to find her when they didn't have a single goddamn lead. "She's still out there, Dean. I have to find her."

Don't bite his head off, don't bite his head off, don't bite his head off - "So, what? You're just gonna leave instead of us going to find her together?" Good job, genius. "I fail to see how that's gonna help, either."

Sam sighed, the bitchface radiating through the phone so badly that Dean grimaced. "I didn't tell you because I knew you wouldn't want to. This lead's kinda spotty. At best."

"So don't follow it." Dean's matter-of-fact tone probably didn't help the situation, but he wasn't known for lying when he was so sure he was right.

"See, that's exactly why I figured I'd tackle this solo! I'm not gonna pass up on a lead if it means we could find her, however small the chance." Dean reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on as his brother continued to just spew whining all over the place. "Look, Dean, you don't have to like it, but there was a time when you hunted without me. That's all this is. I'm just running down a lead, I'll be back in a couple of days." Dean felt a stab in his gut as he suddenly found himself remembering that time Sam had run away to Flagstaff. This felt only marginally better. "It's not a big deal. If I really find something, I'll call you for backup." Dean was silent as he glanced down at his shoe, debating exactly what to say to him, trying to stomp down the instinct to protect his brother that he really liked to ignore. "Dean, go do something. Take a case, don't take a case, go find a pretty blonde or something, I don't care."

"I thought you were the one who had a thing for blondes lately," Dean grumbled, knowing exactly what he was implying.

"What?" Sam's voice pitched up an octave, but Dean was too annoyed to make a good bitch joke. "Wait, is this about Chloe?"

"No!" Dean sounded just as affronted by the suggestion as Sam had. "Why the hell would I care what you do with that Ice Princess?"

"I didn't ask if you cared about what I do with Chloe. I'm flat out noting that you've acted like a surly asshole since we left Delight, and I know it's not because of me." Sam's frustration had apparently turned to bitchtasticly delicious haughtiness. Dean rolled his eyes.Whoop-de-do. "She's been blowing up my phone. Call her, find out what she wants. It'll keep your mind off of what I'm working on."

"I think I know how to occupy myself without your input, Sammy." Dean scoffed, balking at the very notion of calling that stubborn, stuck-up, misguided -

"You keep doing that and you're gonna get a cramp in your hand."

"Really, Sammy? You don't think I have other things to do with my day?" Dean shot back, only to realize how quickly that would turn against him. "Don't answer that." He huffed, trying to figure out what to do from here. Sam wasn't gonna come back. He should probably just go to Bludhaven and join him.

"I gotta go, Dean. I've got a contact to meet." Sam's voice became hurried, but not panicked or upset. Knowing his little brother, he probably just saw some mark he needed to con for information. "Call Chloe, don't call Chloe, it's up to you, but she wouldn't keep calling if she didn't have something important to say." Sam paused. "She's still the woman you got to know, Dean. You didn't have to shut her out." Dean opened his mouth, ready to tell his brother to fuckin' get his stupid girly nose out of his business - "Gotta go. I should be back Thursday."

His punk-ass brother hung up on him. Dean narrowed his eyes, looking at his phone as if it had bitten him. "Well, that's just great, Sammy..." He rumbled, shaking his head at his brother's utter stupidity. It wasn't that he didn't think Sam could take care of himself - within reason - it was that he really didn't seem to want Dean's help. What the hell? Since when?

Dean's expression turned from belligerent to reflect worry, concern, and a little fear. Ever since he'd met Ava, he and Sammy had been distancing each other. They'd work together, live together, eat together, but... it just hadn't felt right. The last time he'd actually felt like he and his brother were in sync was back in Delight with...

Chloe.

Fuck. What was it with this chick that made her so impossible to forget?

Dean reached up to scratch at a bit of stubble, staring at his phone in his hand. Nothin' about Chloe Sullivan made sense. She'd had the technical know-how to get their new numbers when they'd had to ditch everything after the Shapeshifter, she knew about the VRA before it had gotten released to the press, she dated the Green fuckin' Arrow, and here she was... calling him and his brother. Why? What made them so special? Aside from her investigative skills, her hacking skills, the addiction with coffee and the fact that she wavered from knowing how to use a gun to not knowing how to use it, he couldn't see the connection. When you knew the Blur, how did you justify needing a couple of unimportant Hunters for a gig?

Fuckin' curiosity. It was a good thing Dean didn't own a cat, or it woulda lost its nine lives a long time ago.

Dean scrolled through his recent call lists, covering his mouth with his hand and letting out a deep breath as he hit the "Call" button on his phone. This was such a bad idea.

This was Cassie levels of a bad idea.

The phone in his ear rang twice before he heard it pick up, catching the barest hint of music playing before it suddenly cut off. Was that Blue Oyster Cult?

"Dean? You... you called me back?" Chloe sounded a little less chipper now. She actually sounded worried. Not much, but he'd been tongue-lashed by her enough that he now knew the difference between chipper, worried, and nervous. This felt a bit like the last two. That and she didn't seem to actually think he'd call her. Of course, why wouldn't I call her, she's the Leggy Blonde, I'm her big damn hero - Dean stopped that train of thought before it got off track. Pissed off! Dammit, Winchester!

"Yeah, well, Sammy just whined all over the place, cause apparently you don't leave him alone." Dean could hear the flirt leaking through with every word, and no matter what he did, he couldn't seem to make it shut the fuck up.

"Uh-huh." Chloe's disbelief was practically tangible. "Sam whined to you about me."

"You were blowin' up his phone. And mine." Okay, he needed to get off this quickly derailing train of thought before she got the mistaken impression that he'd called for anything other than a case. "So, spill, Velma. Whaddya got for us?"

"Well... I hope you're sitting, McQueen." Dean rolled his eyes, casually strolling past his bed as he listened. "I need your help hunting a monster. How close are you to Gotham?"

Dean stopped.

That woman was gonna get him into trouble.