Title: First and Foremost
Category: Smallville/Twilight Saga
Genre: Humor/Action
Ship: Chloe/Jacob
Rating: T/NC17
Prompt: #11 – First Impression
Word Count: 2,669
Summary: Chloe just went a little Buffy Summers and after finding herself in Werewolf Country, she meets a certain shape shifter out to help her change her life and hopefully be a part of it.
First and Foremost
I.
Not for the first time, she had to wonder where the hell her harebrained schemes even came from. One minute she was running Intel for the League and the next she was hunting vampires in her free time. Admittedly, the tip-off had come from a good source and while the League had other baddies to fight she'd taken it upon herself to go play target practice against blood suckers. And these weren't the kind that infected Lana awhile back; no, these were the stuff out of sci-fi novels. It was her innate 'save-the-world-and-take-no-credit' beliefs that got her in way over her head.
La Push was werewolf country, she knew this. Or at least, it became very apparent after she'd arrived all too Buffy-like to find herself where she wasn't needed. And so she'd done the logical thing; she left the undead to the wolves. Except she apparently pushed a few buttons with those she'd been chasing and while she was happy to let-go and walk away, they weren't. Which was how she ended up running through the woods, avoiding teeth and dodging blurry laughing figures out to scare their dinner.
Days like this she wished the whole sun-makes-vampires-into-dust myth was real, even if it was hours before dawn. So hopping grounded trees and barrel-rolling out of the way as they continued to stalk their prey, she weighed the pros and cons of simply ending the whole thing and taking the fun out of it for them. If she spoiled their dinner by hopping off a mountain into the churning waters below, at least she'd avoid the painful venom process coursing through her veins, and she'd get to piss them off – always an upside. Deciding that death-by-drowning was better than their all-too-intrusive mosquito bite, she changed directions.
Sweat stung down her back, her lungs ached as she pushed them past comfort; they'd be screaming for air a whole lot more not long from now. Joining the League meant getting into shape for just about anything that might come her way, but she couldn't outrun a vampire and the pained muscles of her calves were letting her know that. Still, she didn't slow and she didn't show them an ounce of fear. All her life she'd been fighting arrogant little bastards who thought they could get one over her and she knew that the best part for them was seeing that they'd broken her. The hell with that!
As the scent of the far-off water heightened, she wondered how the League would find out about her demise. Admittedly, she hadn't explained what she was doing. They were distracted enough between Zod and every other bad guy that could get in the way, so she'd taken it upon herself to do what she could. And while killing vamps wasn't exactly easy, she'd done what she could when she could, but she also knew that not all of them were out to kill the human race. She'd done her research and she wasn't hurting anybody that didn't deserve it. Not that her current pursuers cared for her noble deeds any.
Her heart hammered rapidly as she saw the edge of the mountain clearly and her feet moved quicker; why she was hurrying to her death, she couldn't imagine. But it seemed the others had caught on because now they were trying to knock her down and end the game their way. Didn't anybody ever tell them not to play with their food? She was so close, and then Male Vamp #1 blocked her way, his hulking arms spread wide as if he expected her to run into him like some kind of linebacker. She smirked, lifted her arm and released the disc thrower on her wrist, watching as the serrated edge cut through the air. He darted right, which she'd anticipated, so when he moved, he only ended up catching it with his neck. His eyes went wide with surprise, seconds before his head slid from his shoulders and fell back into the water, followed by his body. One down, two to go; unfortunately, she was pretty sure her luck just ran out since they now knew what she had on her. Previously, she'd been able to take them out with the help of a few custom made weapons, but most of them weren't on her as she'd been ambushed when loading the car to get out of Dodge.
She was just taking the running leap off the edge when something caught the back of her sweater and hauled her backwards. Her immediate thought was the vamps giving chase, but when she was kicked her foot back on instinct she heard a growl that was more animal than undead. Laid on the ground, she sat panting before a giant russet werewolf, who was growling fiercely, his fur raised and his teeth bared; however, his attention wasn't on her. In fact, he seemed to be covering her from the coming attack. Knowing the werewolves in the area were protectors, she took it as a good sign and tried to gather her breath back to help in the fight. One wolf against two vampires didn't seem like a fair fight but as she got ready to stand, her disk-thrower armed, she saw his back-up coming out from the trees. Having seen them from afar, she knew they weren't to be messed with, but up-close they were unusually beautiful.
Attention on their animal adversaries, Chloe decided now was about the time to leave. Pushing up, she glanced over the edge at the rushing water and grimaced. So jumping into the frigid waters below seemed like a bad idea now. Keeping her distance from the fight, she ran toward the trees; they had it covered. However, she should've known it wouldn't be that easy. One of the vampires broke apart from the fray and rushed her, throwing her to the ground and pinning her as he hissed at his glorious triumph.
"Silly little girl," he muttered, his red eyes feasting on her. "Didn't your parents ever tell you not to play with dead things?"
"Must've missed that lesson," she replied snarkily.
He laughed, his head thrown back. But his fingers circling her shoulders tightened and she could feel as it bruised her skin, bent on shattering her bones. "You will be delicious," he murmured before ducking his head toward her. Sliding her hand between them, she stuck her wrist up against his throat just as his teeth were millimeters from her throat.
"Stay dead," she told him as she released the disk and heard the crisp slice of it separating head from body.
Pushing him off of her, she sneered down at the body before rising up onto her knees to get up and get away. However, the fight was over, and the wolves were all staring at her and her fresh kill, surprised.
"Thanks for the help," she told them, dusting herself off. "Happy hunting."
And with that, she turned to leave. As unlucky as she'd been, she guessed it wasn't all bad; she got to live another day.
She hadn't walked far before she realized she was being followed. Not by the whole pack, but one lone wolf walked by her side quietly. When she looked back, he stopped, but at her cocked brow he hurried forward to keep pace at her side. The woods were dark and the half moon was only giving her so much light to go by, how she'd navigated before, she blamed on pure instinct. Not that the adrenaline had run its course, she started to wonder just which way was North and whether she would die of exposure; a poor excuse for heroism.
But it seemed her canine companion had an idea as he nudged her knees and started loping down a well-worn path. Figuring she'd rather follow him than get herself lost, she shrugged her shoulders and went with it. He'd only proven to be one of the good guys, furry as he was, and right about now, she was just hoping he was leading her to a phone. The quicker she could get Oliver to send the jet, the faster her Buffy days could end. Maybe this vampire hunting was better left to the werewolves… or whoever else had been doing it before. It was time to hang up the proverbial stake and get back to her usual life; underappreciated Watchtower for the League of Heroic Men With Egos the Size of Mars. Men and their toys; saving the world one arrogant smirk at a time. She was less than pleased that her first foray out into the world as a solo-act had gone up in dust.
She could see light up ahead, threading through the thick foliage. Her russet wolf ran ahead a little and soon she found herself standing in front of a log cabin. A porch wrapped around the small wood house, a quaint bench swing creaked as the wind rocked it back and forth. He sat at the door, waiting for her to follow. She couldn't help but think that anybody else would've turned tail and run screaming for the nearest mental ward. With a sigh over her lack of fear, she climbed the front stairs and reached for the door handle warily.
"If this turns Chainsaw Massacre, I'll neuter you," she warned before peeking inside carefully. He hurried ahead, forcing the door wide open and walking over to the fire roaring in the stone place. It was rustic, all golden wood, big couches, and an armchair fit for her to easily curl up in. Quilts and knit blankets were tossed over furniture and the odd lamp was set up on end tables. But the majority of light came from the fireplace. A dream catcher hung in the front window and a bound handful of sweet grass laid on the sill. Shutting the door behind her, she looked around for a phone and found none. Great, apparently werewolves didn't need to communicate with the outside world.
He walked over to her, circled her legs and then nudged her knees as if to invite her in further. Frowning, she walked into the open living room, not sure what to do now that she was here. And then he'd grabbed hold of a blanket with his teeth and dragged it over to her, lifting it up as if to tell her it was hers to use.
"I'm not really the sleepover type," she replied wryly.
Not taking no for an answer, he simply nodded his head again.
With a sigh, she took it. "Fine. Thank you…" Wrapping it around her shoulders, her eyes roamed the area, seeing pictures on the mantel above the fireplace. There was a man, around her age, with two women a little older than her, and a man that must be their father sitting in a wheelchair while they all knelt around him, their arms wrapped together as they grinned for the camera. "Your family?" she asked, looking back at him. Picking it up, she stared at it wonderingly. "So this is what you look like sans fur?" She cocked a playful brow. "Not bad."
His tongue lolled out of his mouth and she swore she could see him smiling.
But then he was nudging her toward the inviting furniture and after taking a seat on the couch, she found she just couldn't get comfortable. Whether it was from her current circumstances or the lumpy sofa, she wasn't sure. So she stood and moved to sit in the armchair, wiggling until it felt just right. "Great," she murmured, laying her head back. "I've just merged Goldilocks with Little Red Riding Hood." With a snort, she yawned to herself. Her eyes felt heavy and the warmth of the fire combined with the comfort of the chair and the blanket around her shoulders was lulling
Her wolf savior walked circles on the floor before lying down abruptly at her feet, resting his huge head on his paws.
How very like a dog, she thought. With a smile, her eyes closed, and she had to wonder when situations like this weren't even all that weird anymore.
Stretching her legs out, she felt his body beneath her shoes. Wrinkling her nose, she toed her shoes off and kicked them away, followed by her socks. And then her toes were buried in his oddly soft russet fur, tickling the bottom of her feet. And Chloe Sullivan fell asleep, in the home of a strange werewolf, with no idea what the next day would bring.
…
Jacob woke to toes wiggling at his back, a weirdly soothing motion that made his spine tingle and his tail swoosh side-to-side. Abruptly, he remembered what had happened and who it was that was using him as a foot rest. He didn't know her name, he didn't know where she came from or why she was being chased by vampires, but when he'd laid eyes on her, he felt her. Deep inside his chest, something had moved; and he knew then that he'd imprinted on this blonde stranger out playing tag with vampires in the woods. She'd held her own, despite nearly taking a header into the water to get away from them, of which he'd quickly interrupted. She'd killed two of the three vamps on her trail and walked away without so much as a panic attack. For some weird reason, that left him feeling proud of her. That his mate could accept this unnatural twist in the world and fight it with all of herself, walking away nearly unscathed.
And now here he was, having convinced her to follow him home. She had no idea where she was or who he was, but she'd trusted him. There would be a lot of questions, from both of them, but for right now he was just happy. Euphoric, really. All this time, he'd wondered… He'd seen Sam with Emily and he'd hoped he could find that; the one person in the world that fit him. And then she walked into view and he knew he had. He didn't know her or her history, but he would. Whatever it took; he would.
Sliding out from beneath her feet, he went into his room and rose from the ground to transform into his human form. Throwing on a pair of sweatpants, he went back into the living room and took the couch. She knew from his pictures what he looked like and he hoped she wouldn't start the morning with freaking out. But he had to be close to her and even the few feet to his room was too far away. The fire lit her beautifully; her soft golden hair falling over her face, her lips parted as she peacefully slept curled in his favorite chair. There were still a few twigs and leaves clinging to her hair and dirt smudged her cheek, but she was beautiful. Deadly and beautiful. It helped too that she seemed to have a dry sense of humor; from what little she'd said, she was easy-going and accepting. He hoped this would come out more in the future. It wouldn't be an easy road; she wasn't Quileute and while she'd seemed to have some understanding of werewolves and vampires, she likely wasn't going to welcoming the imprinting tradition with open arms.
He would just have to convince her.
And he would.
Grinning as he laid back on the couch, his eyes falling closed, making sure the last thing he saw was her sweet face.
First impressions were important, and he was pretty sure theirs was lasting. Tonight she met the wolf and tomorrow she'd meet the man; soon, she would know that the both of them were made just for her. Soul mates; he might've scoffed at it before. Now he was hoping it was everything he could imagine. So far, she was shaping up to be a real adventure. And he liked the sound of that.
Author's Note: Like all of my other NC17 stories, this will be continued on LiveJournal (a link is on my profile), since FFnet does not all MA material! Love yas, Fina!