Disclaimer: I am a devoted servant of the Great Kripke and would never, ever steal anything he's ever created. I'm just having a little bit of fun.

(Author's Note): A couple people asked me to write a sequel to "Seeing Him Again," and I started thinking that Jo should take on some vampires. You know, just to complete the whole hunter/Buffy aspersion. So, the Harvelles and the Winchesters are gonna have some fun hacking up fangs.

You don't have to read "Seeing Him Again" to get what's going on, but who am I to scare away potential readers? Enjoy ^_^

-qp-qp-qp-qp-

Severed Heads

Chapter One: She Likes A Bar Fight Before Bedtime

Jo hates it when drunk guys hit on her.

They always smell bad, and then they try to feel her up. That part's the worst. Because, you know, alcohol gives a man a) too much confidence, and b) no ability to listen to reason whatsoever.

There's one at the bar she's (unfortunately) sitting next to, and he's made three passes so far. Maybe she'd give him the time of day if he was good looking, but he's butt-ugly.

She's on her own; Ellen's back at the motel, probably catching up on her sleep. Unlike her mom, Jo's a night-owl and tonight she's got more insomnia than usual. So she's stuck here, the bartender giving her a sympathetic look as he mixes drinks.

"You ever been with a man before?" the man drawls, burping at the end of his question.

She doesn't want to know his name. In any case, she's got an allegorical identification card plastered on his forehead: Asshole No. 1 of the night.

The drunk guy's hand is attempting to creep up her thigh.

Jo looks Asshole No. 1 in the eye and says, "Keep touching me and I'll have to hurt you."

"Don't be like that," he begs, a drunken laugh to match. His hand's still on her thigh, and now it's squeezing around her hip.

"That's it," she growls, and punches him in the face so hard he falls off his chair. A few people stop their conversations and look at her curiously, but the country music is blaring from the speakers so loudly that her corporal punishment was only heard in the near vicinity.

"What's your problem, lady?" Asshole No. 1 asks from the floor.

"You think you can get in my pants, I kick your ass," she tells him coolly.

A guy walks over and gives his buddy a hand-up. He turns to look at Jo and she thinks he's halfway decent-looking and might just take him home. Or, you know, whatever.

But then he yells, "What's your problem, you fucking whore?"

And his name, ladies and gentlemen, is now Asshole No. 2.

"I'm no whore, and if he touches me again I'll string him up by his guts," says Jo. She crosses her arms and glares at both Assholes.

"Why, you little –" Asshole No. 2 is coming at her with a fist, but she's called his bluff. This guy won't hit a girl.

"Oh, I'm so scared," she mocks him. "Try and hit me, big boy."

Asshole No. 1 is the one who makes the first swing, though, and she barely sees him coming. Jo ducks just in time and he sways in front of her. Just for good measure, while she's getting up she knees him hard in the stomach.

Thank God his puke misses her boots; she's only just cleaned blood off them.

No. 2 looks like he's about to strangle her – even got his arms out – and Jo slams him hard in the nose. She can feel it break under the heel of her palm and the guy goes reeling. Now she's got her fists up, looking around.

"Anyone else?" she shouts, murder in her eyes.

Funny that these losers think they could take her on. Funny, because she takes out monsters and demons and spirits that would send them running in an instant. Jo's been hunting for three years now; it'll be an anniversary in a week-and-a-half.

But she's been taking down men who are too forceful since she was fourteen, and that's almost half her lifetime.

Her cell phone starts ringing, which ironically enough is set to the song "Womanizer" by Britney Spears. Jo maybe a bad-ass hunter but Brit is special to her.

It's probably time to go, so she takes out the cell and checks the caller ID while slamming down thirty bucks for that nice bartender. It's Sam Winchester, and it's also completely unexpected. But she did say he could call her.

She flips open the screen and heads to the door. "Hey, Sam."

"Hi," he says. Even through the tinny quality of cell reception he sounds awkward.

"What's up?" she's out the door and no one's given her trouble yet, which is a ten percent miracle.

"Oh, not much," Sam tells her. "I just… said I would call, so I thought I'd say 'hi' before you thought I forgot about you."

Now, see, why couldn't she have fallen in love with the sensitive brother? Sure he almost raped her that one time, but that was just a demon wearing his body. He's actually quite sweet.

Jo makes her way though the parking lot and finds her truck.

Dean has his '67 Impala and calls it his baby. Jo's got a red Silverado 1500 with only a year under her belt and she calls it her baby. Privately, Jo thinks her truck is a hell of a lot cooler than some muscle car, but she can't deny the Impala's got style.

"Good to know not all Winchesters are allergic to phone calls," she comments dryly.

Sam lets out a little chuckle that sounds more obligated than amused. "Yeah, Dean is…"

"He's Dean," agrees Jo. "So, what're you two up to now?" It's been five days since she saw them last and Jo's got no doubts they've run into something troublesome again. Hell, she and Ellen just performed a nasty exorcism only yesterday.

"Well, actually, I'm… not hunting anymore," he says.

Jo stops walking and starts fumbling around for her keys in her coat pocket. "I'm sorry, there must be a bad cell reception. I could've sworn you said you're not hunting."

The awkward chuckle returns. "I… I need a break from whatever it is I'm doing. I really haven't been myself lately."

She finds her keys and presses the auto-unlock button. Her baby gives a beep and a click to let her know she's good to get in. Five more steps, and Jo opens the door, heaves herself behind the wheel, and shuts the door.

It's a little hard to find something to say to Sam, because, after, taking a break isn't a hunter's thing. Hunting's usually personal, and vacations aren't paid for.

"Um, …wow," she says for a filler. "What're you doin' instead?"

"I've got a job at a bar Garber, Oklahoma," he tells her. "Pretending to be you for a while."

Jo finds this incredibly funny. "Me?" she manages to splutter through her laughter. "Little blonde girl, working for her mom, wanting to be a hunter?"

"The working part sounds about right."

"Oh, man!" she finally calms down, and gets comfortable in her seat. Clearly, she'll be sitting here a while.

It's nice talking to Sam. She's never really done it before; all the opportunities she had were wasted (or not) on Dean. Sure, they were nice conversations, but Dean isn't exactly nice. But the younger brother's got a softer way of speaking and she likes it.

"Where's Dean in all this?" asks Jo. "He the one you have to throw out of the bar each night?"

"Dean and I, we're uh…" Sam clears his throat and his voice suddenly takes on a lost puppy quality. "We're not working together anymore."

"Sorry, I didn't realize," she says, her voice subdued. She's not going to ask why because it's not her business. The way they jetted out of River Pass kinda showed that the boys had more secrets than a high school cafeteria lunch.

And just like with a high school cafeteria lunch, Jo felt she was better off not knowing.

"Listen, Jo," again with the throat clearing. "I, uh, was awake for what happened in Duluth. For part of it, anyway."

"Aw, no," she groans. "Sam, it wasn't your fault. So a demon jumped your bones. Happens to the best of us."

"You have no idea," he mutters. She can only just make out what he's saying. Truth be told, this is the conversation she doesn't want to have. Jo doesn't do chick flick moments, and she never will. It's just not her style.

Jo decides to make things clear. "I don't need an apology Sam," she tells him. "It wasn't you, and I don't care."

"No, that's not what I was going to say," he says hastily. "It's what the demon said about Dean."

There's a knot in her stomach that she wishes wasn't there. "Look," she starts.

He cuts her off, though. "Just… hear me out, Jo," he pleads. "I think you need to know this."

"I don't want to talk about Dean," she says firmly. "I've spent more time talking about him than I'd like to admit." Which is quite true and she doesn't want to do it any more. She's done moping over a lost cause.

"It's – he never talks about you," Sam tries again.

"Shocker."

"He literally refuses to talk about you. That's when I know he's got something he needs to say."

Jo sighs and drums the steering wheel with her cell phone-free fingers. "Sam? Is this the reason you called? Are you trying to make me feel better? 'Cause it's not working."

Sam's quiet for a moment, and she can tell he's mulling something over. "I just thought you'd like to know, he doesn't think of you as a little sister."

Jo doesn't know what to say to that. She doesn't want to feel excited or giddy, but her emotions are betraying her. She stamps them down, because what good is it to mope around about Dean Winchester when all that happens is pain, more pain, and some broken heart on the side.

Instead she just focuses on being angry, and angry works because you don't have to think, just feel.

"I don't care how Dean feels about me," she says to him, and it's almost true. "We're not gonna talk about him. Call me about anything else; tell me if you've got a girlfriend, whatever. But this whole thing we're doing, it's just you and me. He doesn't need to be a part of it."

"What are we doing?" Sam asks. He sounds confused, and maybe she made things sound romantic when they're so not.

"You're being my on-loan brother," Jo tells him. "God knows I need one."

"So you're using me," he says, a bit of light-hearted humor creeping into his voice.

She scoffs playfully. "Screw that; you get an on-loan sister. It's a fair deal."

Jo's always wanted a brother, but after Ellen popped her out it was enough is enough, so she's an only child. Ash, while he was still around, did a pretty bang-up job of pretending to be a brother, but he was too crazy to fulfill the role. Ash is a painful subject and she pushes it away.

Sam already is a brother. He knows how to be that somebody. It'd be fun with him.

And, when she was still mooning over Dean (overtly at least), a couple of off-the-wall daydreams included him as brother-in-law. If you catch the drift.

He laughs, sounding amused. "Alright then. What's in the job description?"

"You haul your ass to wherever I am when I call you and we watch football together." Jo's completely serious, but she makes it sound funny.

"Sounds perfect."

"Make sure you call me again," she warns, ready to head home now. "Don't let a week go by."

"Wouldn't dream of it," he tells her. "Bye, Jo."

"Bye, Sam." She snaps her phone shut and throws it beside her on the pleather seat.

Jo puts her key in the ignition and revs up the engine, her Silverado baby purring. Her favorite analogy is that her car's like a cat that just finished eating a kill; maybe it's the hunter in her, but nothing's sexier than a contented feline.

It's only a five minute drive back to the motel, and Jo spends her time diligently not thinking about Dean.

What she's trying to focus on is Sam, her new on-loan brother, and it's funny because she's never really thought about Sam as more than a continuation of Dean. But he's surprisingly easy to talk to and she really likes him.

Not romantically though. That would just be weird.

The Blue Rose Motel is slightly crummy, and Ellen's already declared they're leaving in the morning. They've spend two nights (counting this one) and it's been an overall miserable experience. Jo's not gonna miss the town; most men don't like getting wailed on by a size 2 and she might get asked for Round Two.

Jo pulls in and parks the car, sitting in her car for a few minutes more.

What she wants to do is stop being in love. She's tired of how painful it can be, and how sex always has a slight undertone of guilt. It's getting old, not that it wasn't already. But only five days have passed and she didn't say a word to him the whole time.

At the time it felt good, but in hindsight it was pretty much a poor choice. Jo wishes she had at least yelled at Dean.

She sighs and gets out of her truck, ready for a good night's sleep.

-qp-qp-qp-qp-

(Author's Note): There's going to be about ten chapters, give or take a couple… the action won't really start until about chapter three or four. Just hang tight, it's NOT a Sam/Jo fic, I promise. They just need to develop a friendship for... later. Can't tell.

Please Review ^_^