Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or any of it's wonderful characters. If I did Jo would totally still be on the show.

Author's note: This is a multi-chapter fic though I'm not quite sure how many chapters exactly. The story is technically finished, but neither my beta or I are totally satisfied with the ending yet, so if the updates start to lag it's probably because I'm getting close to chapters that I'm still rewriting. But I wanted to get the beginning up for those who've been waiting for it. This story has Dean/Jo in it, so if you're not a fan this probably isn't the fic for you. That being said, r&r is welcomed and appreciated. The more comments I get the more I'll want to update again. Enjoy!

They'd been hunting together on the road for 5 years, only occasionally having other people with them for company. So you'd think Sam would be used to his brother and his post hunt habits by now. And yet, he seemed surprised when Dean suggested a post bone burning bar run.

"Seriously Dean? It's past midnight, we've spent the last 3 days investigating a violent haunting, the last day of which resulted in both of us requiring stitches, and we've been digging up a grave for the past hour. We smell like dirt and smoke and human remains. But you want to go party?

Dean took a moment to consider the question before replying.

"Yup. Pretty much."

"You're insane."

"Well, if you don't have the stamina…" Dean let the taunt hang in the air. He could practically hear Sammy grinding his teeth together as his brow furrowed. Dean only grinned. His brother really was so easy. Sam was quiet for a long moment, and Dean turned to grab the shovels and head towards his beloved car.

"Fine, we'll go, but only one beer, no getting drunk. We need to head out of town early tomorrow."

"Well, I'm glad to know I have your permission princess."

"Shut up."

"Bitch."

"Jerk."

--

It was a typical bar, like every other bar they'd been to across the country. And they'd been to a lot. There was something comforting about knowing even in Idaho nothing was really that different. Dean ordered beers for both of them before returning to the small table Sam had nabbed. He'd already scanned the bar for the quickest exits and places where one could get trapped, as was his habit, but now he allowed his eyes to wander the scenery. Particularly the scenery that appeared to be single. There were a couple of hot brunettes at the bar. Could be lesbians though, he thought, and I don't want a repeat of last time. He moved on to the redhead leaning up against the wall near the jukebox, but he made her for a hooker in a heartbeat and kept his eyes moving. Dean Winchester did not pay for sex, and that was just a fact.

As Sam sipped his beer and tried to pretend he was fantasizing about more than a shower and a warm bed, Dean's eye finally landed on a small blond playing pool. Her face was shadowed where she was standing off to the side, but when she came around the table and leaned over to make a shot, giving Dean a lovely view of some of her other attributes, he decided he would risk the hit site unseen. As the blond won and collected money from her surly competitor, he turned to his silent brother.

"Well Sam, you've been excellent company, really, you have. But I'm afraid now is when we part ways. I have places to go, people to do, you know how it is. Enjoy your beer." Sam started to protest, to remind him about needing to leave early in the morning, but, knowing his brother, gave up and didn't even bother to roll his eyes at Dean as he left the table.

Dean ambled slowly over to the pool table, taking his time to appreciate the view when the blond bent over to stick her winnings in her shoe.

"You know, that doesn't look very comfortable. Why don't I win some of that off you and lighten your load." Dean used the full Winchester charm.

"Why gee, what a thoughtful offer…" the blond trailed off as she stood and turned. They both started, starring at each other incredulously.

"Dean?"

"Jo?"

Jesus, he hadn't seen Jo Harvelle in, what, 3 years? 4? He couldn't even remember. He could, however, remember that the last time they'd spoken he had promised to call her when Sammy was un-possessed. He might have been running a bit late on that count.

"Hey, wow. So…it's been awhile Jo……uh…..how've you been?"

Jo took a breath to answer, but just then Sam, who had apparently seen who it really was his brother was attempting to hit on, came over, looking even more like an overgrown puppy than usual. Jo and Sam stood awkwardly, neither actually greeting the other. Dean realized this was the first time they'd seen each other since Sam had attacked her while possessed in Duluth.

"Uh…Jo, guess what. Sam's not possessed anymore! Hey, isn't that great? I mean, I told you I'd let you know, and here I am, fulfilling my duty, so, you know…there's that…" Dean trailed off, realizing he was edging dangerously close to rambling.

"Really Dean? I never would have guessed that all on my own" Jo's voice dripped with sarcasm, but there was humor in her eyes and a smile pulling at the corner of her lips, and Dean began to hope he would escape this encounter without being punched in any vital body parts.

"Look, Jo," Sam began hesitantly, "about Duluth. I am so sorr-"

"Sam," Jo cut him off softly before he could finish his apology. "It wasn't your fault. I don't blame you. And you shouldn't blame yourself, OK? I'm fine, you're fine, your brother's still and idiot; things are back to normal with all of us."

"Hey, standing right here."

"Your point?"

Sam laughed at his brother and Jo, and some of the tension eased out of his shoulders.

"Hey, um," Sam interrupted them before a massive bitch session could commence, "do you want to come sit with us and have a drink? It's on me."

Jo hesitated for just a moment.

"Sure." She said with a soft smile.

--

Well this is awkward, Jo thought to herself. It hadn't seemed like a big deal, accepting a drink offer from a couple of old friends. But now that they were all sitting down, twiddling their thumbs (literally in Sam's case) she was kind of wishing she had begged off. She doubted they would have argued if she'd said no, but now it was too late. She desperately wanted to be at ease with them, but there was a lot that was unsaid, and now she was stuck here.

Jo settled back in her chair, kicking her legs up onto one of the table cross supports and reclining as far as possible. I'm here now, she thought, and I might as well enjoy the booze. She tipped her beer bottle back, and noticed Dean's attention shift as she did. She gave him a moment, but when his gaze remained where it had fallen she rolled her eyes and cleared her throat.

"Hey Dean? You think you could stop staring at my breasts? Maybe? Just a suggestion?"

"Interesting getup" he gestured to her admittedly low cut halter with his own beer. "Does your Mom know you've taken up the oldest profession in the world?"

Jo gave him a smile that could cut glass.

"I find it helpful, when hustling pool, to play into the male preconception that women are helpless bimbos who only know how to handle one type of stick."

"Ah, so you need your boobs to win your pool games, got it. Glad we cleared that up"

"Dean!" Sam admonished.

"No, it's fine Sam." Jo's reply was calm. She wondered if Dean had always been this insufferable and she'd never been able to see it past her crush. That certainly wasn't a problem anymore. She was long over Dean Winchester. Hadn't thought of him in years, in fact. Have his eyes always been that shade of green? She found herself pondering his gaze before mentally smacking herself. Don't go there Jo. That road leads nowhere good.

"It's fine," she repeated. "In fact, it's perfect. I said helpful, not necessary. You think I can't play the game straight? I'll prove you wrong. Wait here."

With that Jo left the boys to walk over to the crowded coat rack where she'd hung her khaki jacket. Slipping it on, she zipped it as she walked back to them.

"Time to put your money where your mouth is Dean-o. Let's play"

She didn't wait for a response, though she did catch his grin before turning towards the nearest empty pool table.

He passed her a beer and she sipped it slowly while watching him set up. God, look at that ass. NO! Bad Jo! His ass is not for your perusal, nor is any other part of his well toned, athletic, perfectly tanned body. Damn it! Dean's voice broke into her thoughts.

"So are we going to fool around…" Jo choked on her beer, "or are we going to actually play?"

Jo realized she'd been standing doing nothing for quite awhile. Setting her bottle down, she picked up a cue with confidence, matching Dean's quirked eyebrow with a cheshire grin.

"I'll break."

--

OK, Dean thought to himself 3 games and 75 later, maybe she knows what she's doing. He wondered if pool was another skill she'd cultivated growing up at the Roadhouse. It seemed likely. Even with Jo's jacket zipped to her neck he had found himself checking out her body during their game. Well so what, he justified to himself, she's hot, nothing wrong with noticing. Her hair was shorter, he had noted. One of the reasons he hadn't recognized her before. It hung straight to just below her shoulders.

"Easier to maintain on a hunt and still long enough to pull back out of the way," she'd told him when he'd asked her about it. It looked good on her.

After Dean finally conceded defeat (or more accurately after Jo finally stopped agreeing to rematches) they'd gone back to sit with Sam. The ice having effectively been broken by Dean's losing, the conversation was far more relaxed.

"So, I take it y'all are still practically living in the Impala, driving around the country and saving the world one damsel in distress at a time?" Sam laughed at her.

"Yeah, I guess you could put it that way. What about you? Still working in bars?"

"Sometimes. If I end up with spare time between hunts and if I strike out hustling pool or poker."

"So you decided to stick with the hunter thing." Dean's tone made Jo look at him curiously.

"Yeah, I did." She paused for a moment, trying to decide how much she wanted to say. In the end she decided it would be best to completely clear the air. "Look, I know I was a pain in the ass when I went hunting with you in Philadelphia. I was inexperienced and stupid, and I ended up giving that ghost one more hostage you had to save. I've been trained now though. Hunter named Marcus Holton agreed to take me under his wing. I sought him out after Duluth, not," she clarified, spying Sam's tensing shoulders, "because I was scared or traumatized, but because I realized how stupid I'd been. To not recognize the mark on your arm when I first saw it? I mean, I knew you were acting strange, I saw you'd been branded, and I still turned my back on you and let my guard down. You hadn't even been at Bobby's for an entire minute when he spiked your beer with holy water."

"How'd you know about that?"

"Bobby called me after you two left. He wanted to make sure I was OK." Dean shifted uncomfortably.

"Look, Jo, I'm sorry about that. It wasn't that we didn't care-"

"I know, Dean. It's OK. I meant what I said before; I don't blame either of you. I wanted to, because being pissed at you guys was easier than feeling helpless. The fact is though, if I was so serious about becoming a hunter, I needed to be able to take care of myself, even when I was taken by surprise, and I wasn't. It made me realize my own limitations and the fact that I wasn't ready to be out hunting on my own with no one watching my back. But it also made me realize how much I still wanted to be a hunter. I wasn't scared off, I didn't have a sudden urge to run back home and be taken care of by my mother, much as she would have loved that. I felt resolved and determined to learn. I didn't want to need to be rescued anymore."

Dean looked at her with a thoughtful expression. She really is different, he thought. Earlier, when they had been playing pool, she'd seemed so much the same. Teasing, lighthearted, maybe even flirting a bit. But looking at her now he saw there was more there. There was steel behind her eyes that didn't used to be there.

"Well," Sam said, breaking the silence, and startling Jo and Dean out of staring at each other, "I think it's great. We can always use another hunter out there fighting these things."

"Yeah, great," Dean mumbled. He saw Jo's curious look. "I guess I always thought, or maybe hoped, that you'd go home one day and have a normal life."

"You thought it was a phase?" Dean shrugged her question off.

"Doesn't matter what I thought, does it? You're a full blown hunter now, and you're not dead yet so you're probably not a terrible one. That's sort of the end of it, isn't it?"

"Yeah, I guess it is." The conversation shifted to shop talk after that, and they regaled each other with war stories. After awhile Jo sighed and took one last swig of beer before continuing. "Listen, it's been great seeing you guys again, but I gotta head out early tomorrow, I was just passing through town on my way to a hunt, so, you know…" she trailed off.

"Yeah, yeah, of course. We should be heading out ourselves." Sam got up and walked around the table to hug her lightly. "Glad we saw you Jo." Dean watched his brother say his goodbyes and walk off to pay their tab before he stood up as well.

"I guess we'll see you around Jo."

"Yeah. I guess you will." She turned to leave and Dean hesitated for a moment before speaking again. "Hey Jo?" She turned to him, a curious look on her face. He paused in front of her before speaking. "Be careful, OK? Even hunters with years of experience gotta be more careful when they're on their own." She smiled up at him.

"I'm always careful," she said with a wink. "You take care of yourself too Dean." And with that she pulled away and walked out of the bar.

--

By the time Jo got back to her motel room and locked herself in she was dog tired. And also possibly slightly drunk. Deciding she really didn't want to smell the way she smelled now when she woke up (like a grimy, dirty bar) she headed for the bathroom, stopping along the way to take her dad's knife out of her right ankle holster, and her mom's old revolver out of the left one. She set the knife back in her bag but took the revolver with her. Setting it on the toilet, in reach of the tub, she turned on the tap then began to strip down as the bath filled. A shower would have gotten her into bed sooner, but damn if she wasn't a sucker for a nice hot bath.

She took a moment to study her naked body. She looked different then she had the last time she'd seen the Winchesters. She had more muscle now, although she would hardly qualify as a body builder. She also had scars. When she'd first started training under Marcus he'd let her screw up. A lot. Said it was the best way for her to learn and learn fast. There were lots of smaller scars all over, but the worst one was on the small of her back. They'd gone after a vampire nest somewhere in Washington and one of the vamps had managed to get Jo's machete from her. He'd attacked her with it and had cut deep enough to seriously risk her spine. It had been bad, really bad. Ellen had come up from Nebraska to see her in the hospital. They hadn't spoken directly to each other since Jo had gone out on her own and she'd expected her mother to berate her for being careless and order her to come home, but Ellen had just hugged her as hard as she could without hurting her and asked Jo to tell her everything. So she had. Ellen had listened quietly, and although the concern was evident in her eyes she'd said nothing.

Jo had asked her about her new attitude.

"You could have died. And the last thing I would have said to you was 'if you want to hunt, then you'd best leave because you're not doing it under my roof'. I can't stop you Jo, I've accepted that. But if you're going to be putting yourself in danger then I want as much time with my baby girl as I can get. So anytime you want to come home, you just come home. And you tell me what's up and where you are. I don't want you to just disappear one day and I don't even know where to look, OK?"

Jo had been stunned by her mom's change of heart, but it had been so good to have her there. She'd ended up going home with her and finishing her recovery under her mom's watchful eye at the rebuilt Roadhouse. And when she was better and Marcus had come to pick her up to continue their training, her mom had given Jo her old revolver, the first one she'd ever owned. Now Jo always kept it on her, just like her dad's knife.

Breaking out of her memories, Jo turned to the now full tub and got in. It wasn't particularly spacious or luxurious, but it served her purpose and Jo let the warm water wash away the general grime of the bar as her mind shifted to far more recent memories. She'd been shocked to see the Winchesters again, and she wasn't entirely sure what to feel about them.

When Marcus had begun training her body he'd also started counseling her mind. Jo had lied to Sam when she'd said she hadn't been traumatized by the attack. Truth was it had scared her shitless. Marcus helped her work through that, and through her anger at the Winchesters. He'd trained her body so she would feel more in control and less helpless. And he'd trained her mind, with meditation and counseling, to help her move on from the past and let any lingering feelings of resentment go, and helped her to put blame where it really belonged. After awhile she'd been able to admit, to Marcus and herself, that she blamed the Winchesters for a lot of what was wrong in her life because she was scared to think about the people and events that had caused her misery. Mostly she was scared, and ashamed, to admit how much of a part she herself had played in ruining her own life. She'd been angry and petulant and head strong and stupid. So she'd finally accepted that, and put blame for the things that weren't her fault on the shoulders of the people who were really responsible, and in doing so she'd let go of the Winchesters.

It had still startled her to see them again, but especially to see Sam. She was glad Sam hadn't been able to tell. She really did know it wasn't his fault, but his form, his face, was tied to her memories of being tied up and taunted and threatened with a knife, and seeing him again, so unexpectedly, for the first time since Duluth had scared her.

It wasn't like she was terrified of Sam himself. After that first initial tremor she'd gotten her emotions under control. She'd forced herself to interact with him, to say what she knew he needed to hear. And she'd relaxed over the course of the evening. Jo thought she could probably see him again now and not have that reflexive fear.

And then there was Dean. She had been so sure she was over him. When he'd walked out of the bar in Duluth after she pulled the bullet from his shoulder, she had been positive she was never going to see him again. And she hadn't really wanted to. Sure, she'd still been attracted as hell to him, but Sam, possessed or not, had been right. Romance was just out of the question. Dean wasn't the dating type and Jo wasn't entirely sure he didn't think of her as just a little sister. Any romantic fantasies she'd had were just that, fantasies. Seeing him just made it that much easier for her to delude herself into thinking he might like her the same way she liked him, so she'd watched him walk away and she'd tried to never look back. And for the most part she had succeeded. She'd lived her life, hunted, visited her mom, and even dated a bit, not that it had gone well.

But good Lord he had looked good tonight. And now here she was, having a conversation with herself she'd had a thousand times in the past. Dean Winchester is not the guy for you. But what if he is? No, he's not, it would never work, end of story. But if it did work it could be amazing. You just shut up; it's not worth pining over him because he's never going to feel the same so just shut your hole.

Jo sunk a little lower in the tub, getting drowsy even with her current train of thought. Her eyes closed as she drifted a bit, so she didn't notice at first when the lights began to flicker. When she felt the sudden chill in the room her eyes snapped open and she glanced around, suddenly very alert. As she watched the lights buzz in and out, she slowly rose from the tub and reached for her gun.

--

To be continued...