Author's Note: I don't own Dean or Jo. And the song credit goes to Miranda Lambert and is called Gun Powder and Lead.

I'm goin' home, gonna load my shotgun
Wait by the door and light a cigarette
He wants a fight well now he's got one
He ain't seen me crazy yet
Slapped my face and he shook me like a rag doll
Don't that sound like a real man
I'm gonna show him what a little girl's made of
Gun powder and lead

Nobody hits a Harvelle. She had decided that a long time ago when her mother had finally gotten up the balls to see a man.

Said man had ended up with two black eyes, a broken nose, and a cracked rib. He had been a drunk when it came down to it and one slap to her mother's face was all it took.

Nobody hit a Harvelle.

Not even the current ex-boyfriend of Jo's.

She had put up with his bad attitude and his yelling, yeah, but when he rose that large calloused hand to her, everything had gone to hell.

She hadn't upped her momma. Yet. But she was planning on it.

"I just asked you to fix me a god damn sandwich," he was roaring in front of her. She tried to hide the roll of her eyes but didn't think she did a very good job. She was a bar maid not a house wife. And he was her boyfriend, not her slave driver. There was no way she was going to let this man in front of her order her around, boyfriend or not. She hadn't even let Dean Winchester, one of the scariest men on earth, in her opinion, order her around like a little girl. There was no way this guy was even going to get her to move an inch.

"And I said fix it yourself," she snapped back. Her quirky trademark smirk spread across her face to add an extra ounce of irritation and then she turned back to folding her laundry. She could hear him huffing and puffing from behind her, almost like a bull with something red waving in front of him. But she didn't much care. He could get as mad as he wanted. She still wasn't going to do it.

"Is it too hard for you to be nice for a minute?" he snapped finally. His voice was deeper then it had been a few minutes ago when he'd stormed in. Maybe he was finally starting to sober up.

"Yeah, actually," she told him firmly. "It don't help much that I don't like to be ordered around."

He grunted from behind her and she could feel the air behind her shift as he moved. She was reminded of the old days, the days after she had finally left her mother behind and took on a life of her own. It reminded her of hunting and putting herself in dangerous situations.

She realized why he reminded her of dangerous situations a few seconds later when his hands clamped down on her forearms and snapped her around to face him. Of course she could have done something about it but for some odd reason she didn't even make a move to take his arms off of her. Maybe it was because she was too stunned he had touched her like that in the first place. He had never shown signs of being a woman beater before. This was the first.

But then again, this was how it had started with her mom's man, too. Everything had went fine for a while and then things shot to hell so fast her mom hadn't even been able to blink.

So she shouldn't have been surprised when he shoved his face right down into hers until their noses were touching.

"Back talk again," he whispered menacingly. "I dare you." The feel of his hot breath on her cheeks, lips, and in her nose, made her flinch back for a minute before she could regain herself.

"Ok," she said simply. "You're breath stinks!" She spit at him, her lip curling over her teeth. That's when it happened. The one that thing that never happened to a Harvelle. Or wasn't supposed to happen anyway. He hit her. A full on punch to the eye.

The force of it knocked her out of his grip and into the counter behind her. The pain in her back was twice as much as the pain in her eye from his hit. Her vision blurred for a few minutes, black dots flashing here and there. When she could finally see strait and clear, she clutched her eye. He was still breathing heavily in front of her. Probably waiting to see what she was going to do. And she was going to do something. She was going to call the cops and get his ass thrown in jail.

She kicked a rock under her feet as she walked. She had about two hours she figured. Just two until he finally made bail somehow, went to get a drink, and came back to the beat the shit out of her. And she was going to make good on these two hours. She was about a mile from home now and when she got back she was going to get the shot gun from the attic and settle back with a six pack. Wait for him to get home.

There was no way he was going to get away with this one.

Another hour and a half later she was sitting exactly where she had planned. Except she was two six packs in instead of one. She was geared up for the fight that was definitely about to go down. She was excited for it. She hadn't had any violence in her life since she had stopped hunting. She kind of missed it. The whole being on the road and not knowing what was going to happen.

Tires squeled in the driveway and she found herself sitting up a little straiter. Maybe she was a little scared. Maybe she didn't know what was going to happen. But she was the one with the gun. And it was bigger.

"Jo?" a voice called. That voice was definitely not Jimmy's. Definitely not who she was expecting.

"Come back later," she yelled back. She hoped he could hear the obvious annoyance in her voice. But a few seconds later his footsteps could be heard coming up the stairs and she cursed under her breath. Was she actually going to have to shoot a guy with Dean Winchester here? Great.

"Jo," he started and she imagined his large hand reaching towards the door knob of the screen. The only thing she could do was sigh. He was going to come in if it was locked or not and he was bigger than her too. She was just going to have to shoot Jimmy while Dean watched.

"Didn't I tell you to come back later?" She sounded freakily like her mother. Maybe that's what would drive him away.

Somehow she doubted it.

"What are you doing?" He had come in and laid eyes on her. She was still sitting there with a beer in between her legs and a shotgun in her hands. He was raising an eyebrow at her like she was crazy, which he probably thought she was, but she didn't answer for a few minutes.

"I'm waiting for someone," she said. Her tone was matter-of-fact, like she wasn't about to shoot someone and she couldn't decide if it was to keep herself calm or to keep Dean calm.

"Someone you're gonna shoot?" His eyebrow rose even further if that was possible. "Tell me it's something supernatural."

She snorted with laughter and gave him a look that told him her answer.

He was opening his mouth to say something else when another set of tires squeled outside. It was time.

She cocked the shot gun in her hands with a smirk and motioned Dean to get out of the way.

"I really don't want to shoot you, too, Dean."

"Oh, come on!"

Well it's half past ten
Another six pack in
I can feel the rumble like the cold black wind
He pulls in the drive
Gravel flies
He don't know
what's waitin' here this time