Written by: Casper

Rated: T

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural. Fudge.

AN: Written for an exchange. This is a Sam/Jo relationship fic.

Dangerous Things

Fingers pick at the newly acquired stitches. "Stop that." Looking up at the man sitting beside her in the large black stallion of a car, she glares.

"Quit talking like you're my Dad and stick to driving."

He sighs, reaching for something down in a bag by her feet. She holds the steering wheel when he fights for the object to be free. It takes a few tugs and a curse before he pulls out a wicked looking knife that has silver lining the hilt. One would appreciate such a thing if they had a large collection of knives. Jo has over a few dozen of them stored in her truck and some wedged in her own bag.

"You trying to tell me something there, Sam?" She waggles her brow in jest to which he rolls his eyes but chuckles nonetheless.

"Here." She takes the knife. It's lighter then she thought it would be. Unsheathing it, she takes an appreciative gasp at how well made it is, with the ridges looking like they could skew a rock.

Sunlight glints off the blade, flashing up to the very sharp tip.

"It's nice." Jo starts to hand it back when he stops her.

"Keep it."

It becomes her second favorite knife given to her by a Winchester.

...

They're neck deep in trouble. Jo has her arm tightly wrapped around her shotgun as she makes a run for it through shaded woods. Sam is two steps behind her, surprisingly with his long ass legs, glancing back every so often.

"We're almost there!" She shouts over her shoulder. A few yards away, through the scattered branches she can see the tail end of the Impala. Just a little while longer and they're safe.

By the time they reach the car, she can't feel much of her legs as she stumbles into the passenger side while Sam starts the car, letting it turnover and hit the gas when a group of red eyes and claws come poking out of the woods.

By the time they reach the motel, they can barely move from being so sore. Jo claims the shower first while Sam makes a few calls – about what they're really dealing with and to bitch at their source for giving them bad information.

When the water starts to turn cold, Jo wraps a towel around herself when she realizes she's left her spare clothes in the other room. "Shit." Hoping Sam's busy with the phone calls or fallen asleep, she pokes her head out. He's nowhere in sight.

He had mentioned something about food along the way back, she thinks to herself. So she has some free time. Bare feet pad over toward the duffel bag sitting on the second twin bed.

"I said no." Her head shoots up as she glances at the door.

"Sam calm down. It's not that serious. Unless you're telling me it's become that serious with the little girl."

"Knock it off, Ruby. That's not it and you know it."

For a split second, Jo feels her chest ache but it quickly fades when the sound of the doorknob turning startles her. Grabbing the bag, she flies into the bathroom and slams the door shut just as the other opens. "Jo?" Sam calls.

"I'll be out in a second. Sorry I used up all the hot water." Her heart races and she swallows back a nervous laugh. This is insane. She's never seen Sam as something more than a friend. A brother maybe… so why did it sting?

Closing her eyes, it takes a few seconds before he gives her a good humored laugh. "Don't worry about it. I'm used to it."

Dean must have done the same thing to him.

That's right. The man with the gorgeous green eyes who came swaggering into the roadhouse and really stole her heart was the one she wanted. But he was dead. Six feet under thanks to making a stupid deal that he never once mentioned.

Fifteen minutes later, she comes out in a pair of sweat pants and a t-shirt that reads "Live Free or Die Trying" with her hair piled up in a high top pony tail. Sam is at the table, his fingers running through an old looking book she knows she's never seen in his belongings. He glances up and gives a playful smile to her.

"Nice outfit."

"And I can pull it off better then you could in a tuxedo."

He laughs.

"What are you reading over there?"

For a moment, she almost thinks his eyes strain at the question but he quickly looks back down to where his hand is almost covering the text completely.

"Something about hellhounds…" The answer is half finished as it's obvious he doesn't want to talk about it. Fine. She can wait.

"Oh."

He grabs a white bag on the small desk pressed against the wall and waggles it out in front of her. "Got ya food."

"Oh geez thanks so much for that Sam. Now I feel like a dog waiting to be fed by its owner."

"Sorry."

Still, her stomach is growling for some substance to fill it. She only stalls for a few short seconds before she's reaching out to grab it and plops down on one of the beds. He's bought her a double cheese burger, extra cheese. Oh does he know her well these days.

Sam's laughing again. "Guess food always wins out in the end. I swear you're just like-" Her head turns just as the amusement that had been dancing along his face transforms into confusion, then anger.

"What was that?" She already knows what he wanted to say but still. He has to stop hurting himself. Sam didn't put Dean in the ground, Dean did.

"Nothing."

There is an awkward silence that itches at her skin. She wants to shout and hug him at the same time. Putting the burger down, she gets up from the bed and walks over to where Sam is sitting. He watches her, a frown marring his face.

Before she can really think about it, she's pulled his face in her hands and pressing her mouth on his lips. For a second, she can feel him sputter at the odd behavior. Then it melts away and he's giving in as he adds a pressure of his own to the mix; forming something Jo never quite expects.

When they break away, she's letting out a hard exhale as he looks at her face, reading into her eyes, feeling her soul. It's enough to startle the shit out of her. He could always do that. No matter if she had any romantic notions about him or not. Reading people always seems to be his thing and he does it well because the next thing he does has her completely halting the building walls that would block him out.

"Thank you." He smiles. "For – being you. I don't think I would have survived these last few months without you."

She gives a small smile. "I'm glad you called."

For a split second she wants to hold him. But it fades away when those words from earlier float back. The woman outside. Who the hell was she?

Instead of pulling a mother act, the thing she hates more than anything and yet unknowably wants to do as well, Jo joins him and tries the only thing she knows when at a loss. She waits for the danger to come to her. Lets it stew until there are only two options: run or fight. "So, did you get a hold of Jacko and ream him out for his crazy info?"

Sam nods. "Not exactly, apparently Jacko's mother came to the phone wanting to know where her son was."

Jo's mouth drops open. "Wait, he still lives with his Mom?"

"You did hear me about the part where he's missing right?"

"Yeah, I just can't get over the fact that he's still living with Mommy dearest."

"It's not that weird."

She eyeballs him. "Oh yeah, he's only at the tender age of fifty years old, Sam."

He thinks about it and then really laughs, with her soon joining in. It's really stupid to be laughing at but they can't help it. "Yeah, okay. I guess that is bad." Sam says once he calms down.

Jo reaches out, her hand lightly grazing his. If he wants her to stop, he doesn't give any indication as he just watches her hand, a tiny pull at the corner of his mouth. "You think?"

...

They eventually go back to find a trap set up in the woods. Freaky ass demons dancing around a large bonfire with crazy Jacko strung up, crying for his mother. Jo and Sam can't stop laughing on the drive home.

"It ain't fucking funny! They came out of nowheres and hog tied me. Told me I was there dinner. Do you know how tasty I can be? I eat spicy food every day. That means I have to be tasty, right?"

Jo's bent over while Sam tries to keep the Impala steering straight.

"Stop laughing at me! I swears, the next time ya'll call me for the big four-one-one I ain't giving ya shit! Ya hears, me? Nothing, nada. You can go and find another damn idjit to get strung on up like a fucking animal."

Jo wheezes out, her voice tiny with sparkles of tears at the corner of her eyes "Sam, I think I'm gonna pee my pants."

"You hear me?" Jacko wails.

Sam rubs Jo's back. "You do that and I swear Dean will roll in his grave. Just hold it."

"You punkasssonsofbitches! I swear, I dun care if you are like children to my cuzin, you are disrespectful!" Jacko starts to run his mouth off about Bobby and his stupid adventures with ghosts and demons and Jo seems to sober up enough to turn around and threaten bodily harm that has Sam proudly grinning at her control.

When she turns back, there is a spark in her eyes that has him wondering on Jacko's well being. "We really need to get him back."

Sam can't agree more as his foot presses harder on the gas pedal. "I'll gun it."