Dean and Jo had a... complex relationship. At least that's how Sam liked to put it. Even after they declared themselves an official thing, they still continued to bicker like children, much to Sam's dismay. Dealing with Dean's childish tendencies had been bad enough, but adding Jo to the equation had practically multiplied it by two.

The first time they had a "couple's spat" was on the first hunt Jo accompanied them on where she didn't have to sneak her way in. They'd been crashing in some crappy motel, like always, and both Dean and Jo had dove for the remote at the same time.

"Ladies first," Jo remarked with a grin, and Dean frowned in response.

"First come, first serve, sweetheart," he retorted, and she huffed, giving the remote a tug.

"Give it here. Buffy the Vampire Slayer is on in five minutes!"

"So is Not Natural!" Dean snapped in response, tugging on the remote himself, and Jo frowned, furrowing her brow.

"What the hell is that?"

"It's a show about two sisters who hunt demons," he stated, successfully tugging the remote from her grasp and smirking as he turned on the TV.

Scowling when he turned around, Jo pounced on his back like a cat, reaching around him to grab for the remote again. "Dean!"

"Jo!" he taunted mockingly and Sam rolled his eyes as he walked into the room and caught sight of their position.

"What are you two squabbling about now?" he asked with exasperation as he put his laptop bag down on one of the beds, and Jo wrapped her fingers around Dean's neck as he stumbled around the room.

"Dean took the remote from me!"

"Dean, give Jo the remote," Sam said, not really paying attention to them as he sat down and pulled out his computer.

"But I had it first!" Dean snapped, frowning as he tried to pry Jo's fingers from his throat.

"Dean, stop acting like a five year old and give Jo the remote."

Scowling, Dean grumbled as he dropped her onto the bed, reluctantly handing the remote over at Sam's command. "Fine..."

Grinning victoriously, Jo moved to change the channel, pausing briefly when Dean's show grabbed her attention.

"Your mother is the reason my mother is dead, Dena!"

"Joey, it wasn't my fault-!"

"Just leave. Please, just get the hell out of here."

"What did you say this was about again?" she asked Dean, furrowing her brow, and he dropped himself onto the bed beside her.

"Sisters that devote their lives to hunting demons after their father was drowned by Blue Eyes."

"And who's Joey?"

"Isn't Joey the hot bartender who Dena is not so secretly crushing on?" Sam asked, glancing up from his laptop, and Dean nodded as he kicked back against the headboard.

"Yup."

Frowning, Jo turned her attention back to the TV, shaking her head as she switched it to Buffy The Vampire Slayer instead, lying back on the bed and shifting so the arm holding the remote was lazily wrapped around Dean. "What unrealistic bullshit."

Snorting, Dean shook his head. At least his show was slightly realistic. Buffy? Now that was unrealistic bullshit. Pure, unadultered bullshit. But Jo seemed to like it enough, so he sucked it up.

"Heavenly Hash."

"What? No! Cotton Candy!"

Groaning as he clutched two shopping baskets in his hand, Sam shook his head. The three of them were currently standing in the frozen treat section of a supermarket in Denver, and Dean and Jo were at it again. This time it was about what flavor of ice-cream they were going to get. Dean had his heart set on Heavenly Hash, but Jo had other ideas.

"Dean, it's like cotton candy. But it's ice-cream."

"Heavenly Hash has marshmallows, Jo! Marshmallows! And nuts, and chocolate chips!"

"You can buy all of those separately and put them on your ice-cream!" Jo stated huffily, and Dean glared.

"You can buy a bag of cotton candy, too! Who the hell has ever heard of eating cotton candy flavored ice-cream when you can just eat actualcotton candy?"

Heaving a sigh, Jo looked at the ground. What she was about to do had to be the dirtiest trick in the book. But, if it worked for Sam...

"Hey, Dean?"

"What?" he asked, looking away from the freezer when she spoke up, his eyes widening with horror, "No, Jo, no..."

She was doing the damn puppy dog eyes. Full on pouty lips and everything. Damn those big brown eyes...

"Pretty please, Dean?"

All she had to do was bat her lashes and he crumbled. Grumbling under his breath, he grabbed the blue and pink ice-cream container from the freezer, trudging off down the aisle.

"That was a dirty move," Sam stated as he and Jo followed, and she scoffed.

"Oh, you're one to talk."

When they were kids, Dean had always hated sharing a bed with Sam. Sam was one of those people that just couldn't keep still; he'd always end up either right on top of Dean, or with all the blankets wrapped around him in a tight cocoon. It made sleeping either too hot or too cold; there was never a happy medium.

Sleeping with Jo on the road was even worse. Unless they'd just had hard-core sex, which was a rare occurence if Sam was with them, she would toss and turn, hog all of the blankets, and snore. She snored like a goddamn train.

He loved her. Damn, he loved her more than she'd ever know. But getting a decent night's sleep with her in the same room was impossible.

Jo had still yet to figure out why she found Dean sleeping in the bathtub so often.

REO Speedwagon was okay once in a while. In fact, Dean liked to refer to "Can't Fight This Feeling" as their song. But when Jo insisted on listening to it at top volume every car ride, it started to get on his last nerve.

"And even as I wander, I'm keeping you in sight!"

"Jo..."

"You're a candle in the wind on a cold dark winter's night!"

"Jo..."

"And I'm getting closer than I ever thought I might!"

"Jo!"

She looked up from the drum solo she was doing when he shouted over the high volume of the music, raising an eyebrow at his outburst.

"Yes, Mr. Grumpy Pants?"

"Is it really necessary to listen to it that loud? You're deafening Sammy."

Jo glanced into the backseat at Sam, who was intently staring straight ahead, and he raised an eyebrow when he caught her staring at him, pulling an orange earplug out of his ear. "What?"

Rolling her eyes, Jo shook her head. "Don't be a party pooper, Dean. Sam doesn't care."

"I don't care about what?" he asked, wincing slightly at how loud the music was, and Dean nodded at his expression.

"About that."

"What? The 576th time we've listened to REO Speedwagon since Denver?"

Scoffing, Jo huffed as she turned the volume down, crossing her arms over her chest as she glared out the window.

"You both suck."

"What'd I do?" Sam asked, looking between them both, and he shrugged when neither of them answered, putting his earplug back in. He could sense a classic Dean and Jo squabble coming on, and he'd rather not bear witness to it.

"I don't suck," Dean objected, shaking his head as he focused on the stretch of road before them, "I just don't like my head pounding because of that song, over and over again..."

Jo continued to ignore him, her gaze trained on the scenery outside her window, and after a few moments of tense silence, Dean sighed. She was impossible. She was moody, irrational, and a bit bratty when she didn't get her way.

But he loved her.

Shaking his head, he cranked the volume again to full blast, causing Sam to jump and fall over in the backseat, Jo instantly perking up again and grinning when Dean started to sing out of key.

"And I can't fight this feeling anymore. I've forgotten what I started fighting for!"

Chiming in with him in a key that was reasonably higher, Jo grinned more widely, "It's time to bring this ship into the shore, and throw away the oars forever..."

Giving her a slight smile, Dean shook his head, singing along with her as he tapped his hands against the steering wheel in a fashion that made Sam fear for his life in the backseat.

"'Cause I can't fight this feeling anymore! I've forgotten what I started fighting for! And if I have to crawl upon the floor, come crashing through the door; Baby, I can't fight this feeling anymore..."

Jo was grinning from ear to ear as the guitar solo started up, and Dean grinned with satisfaction when she pressed her lips to his cheek. Stubborn as she may be, she was easy enough to please.

"Dean!"

Sighing heavily, he looked up from the TV when Jo shouted his name from the bathroom. They were tracking a spirit in a small town in Mississippi, and Sam was out doing some research, leaving the two of them the motel room to themselves. Jo had taken the opportunity to shower, and Dean raised an eyebrow when she stalked out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel, her hair dripping, a dainty blue razor clutched tightly in her hand.

"Did you use my razor?"

"Why the hell would I use your razor?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "It's a girl razor."

"Well, if it wasn't you, then why is there hair in it?"

Shoving it in his face, Dean felt his eyes cross, and he shook his head as he pushed her hand away.

"Alright, fine. You got me! I used your girly razor to shave my balls. I thought you might like them velvety smooth."

"You are so gross!" Jo snapped with disgust, chucking the razor at his feet and stalking back into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind her.

He hadn't really used it. But he knew she wouldn't shut up unless he "admitted" to it. The longer he put it off, the pissier she would get; and Harvelle women were scary when they were angry.

Dean looked up from the TV again when the door opened and Sam walked in, and he raised an eyebrow.

"Find out anything useful?"

"Yeah; apparently five women died in a tragic car accident outside the town hall. I think it's worth looking into."

Dean nodded, twisting his beer bottle in his hand, and he turned to face Sam after a few moments when the sound of his typing filled the room

"Did you use Jo's razor?"

The typing ceased and Sam's face turned bright red, causing Dean's eyes to widen.

"Sammy?"

"They're more... delicate! Hers don't cut my face as often..."

"Oh, come on, Sammy! Now I'm not going to get nailed for at least a week!"

Glancing up from his laptop, Sam shook his head before looking away again and heaving a sigh.

Considering that he was forced to share a room with the two of them, that wasn't necessarily a bad thing in his opinion.

"Please, baby?"

"Jo, it's three o'clock in the morning!"

"Please...?"

Damn it. She had to stop it with the puppy dog eyes.

"Fine..."

Trudging out into the snow, Dean shoved his hands in his pockets. How had they ended up chasing a werewolf all the way to Canada? In January?

Whatever the reason, apparently Jo had made up her mind that she wanted to try real Canadian maple syrup. At three in the morning. While he'd been blissfully asleep... in the bathtub.

"We might die tomorrow, Dean," she'd said, batting her lashes, and he'd given in like he always did. He hated being so whipped, but he knew he'd never be able to help it. She was as bad as Sammy.

"Hey, Dean?"

"What?" he snapped when Sam called from the motel room door, his hand pausing on the car door.

"Can you get me some bacon?"

"How the hell are you going to cook bacon?" he asked with exasperation, and Sam shrugged.

"I'll find a way."

"No, Sam!"

"Please?"

Damn those puppy eyes to the deepest pit in hell.

"Fine..."

"Damn it, Jo, no!"

She was out of his reach before he could stop her, running forward with all the confidence in the world. She was brave as hell, but she always seemed to forget that she wasn't invincible.

Dean flinched when he heard a gun fire, expecting to hear Jo's scream seconds later; but it never came. Oh, God; what if the damn werewolf had killed her before she could even get the sound out? Running out from behind the dumpster they'd been crouched in the shadow of, Dean paused, genuine surprise coating his features. Standing there, perfectly unharmed, was Jo with her back to him, the gun smoking in her hand as she stood over the dead body of the man at her feet. He hadn't been a good person, even before he was turned; he was a known rapist, and Jo had a gleam of satisfaction in her eyes for having eliminated him herself. Turning her head to face Dean, Jo grinned at the sight of his expression, the slight breeze in the night air ruffling her blonde curls.

"Don't look so surprised. I can handle myself."

Shaking his head, Dean took a shaky breath and walked briskly up to her, grabbing her cheeks and pulling her forcefully into a deep kiss. He hated it when she'd run off like that during a hunt, especially when the damn thing they were hunting targeted pretty petite blondes. He'd almost lost her to something like this once; he couldn't bear it if he lost her now. Faltering with surprise, Jo took a moment before she kissed him back, bringing a hand up to rest over his. When Dean finally slowly pulled back, he pressed his forehead to hers, breathlessly staring into her eyes.

"You've gotta stop doing that," he stated, and she gave him a slightly wry grin.

"Fat chance..."

Groaning, Dean closed his eyes and tugged her closer in his arms.

"You're going to be the death of me, Joanna Beth..."

"I can guarantee that I will be if you call me 'Joanna Beth' again, Dean Winchester."

Chuckling under his breath, Dean shook his head, nuzzling his nose into her hair. She was impossible, sassy, and one hell of a shot; and she was his.

"Simba means 'king' in Swahili, Dean, and I refuse to believe otherwise."

"Well, believe what you want, but it's wrong."

It was the stupidest fight they'd ever gotten into; Sam was certain of it. The three of them had been discussing things they remembered from their childhood, and Dean had brought up how he and Sam would watch The Lion King over and over, because it was the only Disney movie that they owned. That had prompted Dean to bring up how Simba meant "lion" in Swahili, to which Jo had quickly objected.

"I loved Disney as a kid, Dean. Watching one damn movie doesn't make you an expert!"

"It does on that one damn movie," Dean muttered with frustration, and Jo scoffed. Dean left out the fact that Sam had looked up a bunch of pointless Disney facts a few months back when neither of them had been able to sleep; he knew proving her wrong would only make her pissed at him.

"It means king," she insisted again, and Dean tightened his grip on the steering wheel. Had it been anyone else, he would have argued his side until he was blue in the face. But he hated it when Jo was angry with him.

"Fine. It means king," he sneered, and Sam glanced at him with surprise. Giving up so easily? Dean never did that.

Jo didn't seem satisfied; she still glared out her window, and Dean heaved a heavy sigh. He assumed it had to be that time of the month; they always fought a thousand times more when it was. It was hard to miss.

He'd buy her some cotton candy ice-cream later and she'd forgive him.

They'd been lucky enough to ditch Sam at the motel room for a few hours. Apparently they were driving him crazy with their bickering, and "needed to blow off some steam." After that, Sam practically kicked them out of the room, locking them outside. That didn't leave them with much else to do than drive around in the dark in silence, Jo pouting in the passenger's seat grumpily while Dean drove. Unfortunately, he'd forgotten to fill up on gas earlier that day, and the Impala ended up spluttering to a stop on the side of a rather deserted road.

"Oh, that's just great, Dean," Jo snapped, and Dean turned to face her with a scowl. Normally he tolerated her moods; he even did his best to tiptoe around them; but she was getting on his last nerve today, sneering at everything he did and doing everything she possibly could to irritate him.

"You know what, Joanna Beth? I think it's just damn dandy!" he snapped in response, and her head snapped around to face him at the use of her full name, her lips pursed and eyes narrowed.

"What the hell did you just call me?" she ground out, and he leaned closer to her, his eyes narrowing like hers.

"Joanna Beth Harvelle," he spat, and she scowled as she unfastened her seatbelt, grabbing him by his shirt.

"What have I told you about calling me that? Never call me that!"

"I'll call you whatever I like," he stated in response, their faces inches apart, and seconds later her lips attacked his ravenously, moving with bruising force as his fingers tangled harshly in her curls, holding her in place. Fumbling with his seatbelt, Jo freed him to tug him closer, and Dean growled softly against her lips, nipping at her lower one and tugging it harshly. A soft moan escaped her at his roughness and she slid her hands into his jacket, quickly pushing it down his arms and he complied at her eagerness, chucking it into the backseat and beginning to tug her closer, frowning when she began to move for the backseat.

"Oh, no," he stated, tugging her over onto his lap, "My car, my rules."

She started to protest, but was cut off when he mashed his lips to hers again, their bodies pressed firmly together in the close quarters of the driver's seat. Tugging her tank top over her head, Dean chucked it into the back, followed closely by his own shirt and her jeans and underwear. Hands roaming hotly over skin, the two of them kissed each other with hungry desperation, and Jo moaned softly into his mouth when she felt the bulge of his erection pressing against her wetness through his jeans. God, she wanted him, and she wanted him now. Canting her head back, she let him trail a path of heated kisses down the base of her neck as she fumbled with his button and zipper, shuddering when she felt him spring free against her.

"Dean..." she whispered, her voice practically a groan, and he was quick to catch her lip between his teeth, sucking it into his mouth as he grabbed her hips in his hands, lifting her up and slowly lowering her down onto him, a shudder running through his spine when she moaned against his lips with pleasure. Damn, she felt good...

Their lips began to move in a slower, passion fueled dance as Jo arched her body against his, giving a roll of her hips downward and gasping quietly when he bucked up into her in response. Somehow this sex always felt the best; the steamy bump and grind that tended to occur when they had a real fight. Days upon days of bickering leading up to this moment; the moment when they would let out all their frustration at each other in their personal favorite way. Clutching his shoulders, Jo gave another roll of her hips before starting to ride him, and Dean moaned in response beneath her, moving his lips more fervently with hers in a fashion that would leave their lips swollen later. Quickly moving his body in time with hers, driving his erection deep into her slick folds, Dean smirked slightly against her lips when he heard Jo whimper in appreciation, her grip on him tightening. He loved that sound...

They continued to accelerate the pace of their movements until they were both flying high with pleasure, the windows of the Impala fogged up from the heat and moisture in the darkness, and Jo's hand slid down it when she cried out as her orgasm hit, leaving a trail and a handprint that Dean would have to polish away later. Moaning with his own release, he clutched her hips tightly, his grip slowly loosening as she calmed on his lap, her head pillowed on his shoulder as she gasped for breath.

"I guess I can... check that off my bucket list..." she mumbled, and he laughed breathlessly, his arms winding around her warm, soft body.

"Impala sex was on your bucket list?"

"Has been for months..." she murmured, breathing slowly, and Dean grinned wickedly, gently squeezing his arms around her.

"I'd have willingly complied any time you asked..."

"Mmm... nah..." Shaking her head, Jo kissed his neck. "It was hotter this way..."

"Hell yes it was," he stated, a wicked smirk pulling at his lips, "Maybe now I can convince Sammy to stop trying to drive my car..."

Laughing quietly, she curled against him, shutting her dark eyes.

"Not very moral of you... Fucking your girl on the driver's seat to keep him off..."

"Who ever said I was moral?" he whispered in her ear, and Jo grinned as she felt herself drifting off into a blissfully welcome sleep.

"Lots of people, I'm sure... People who don't know you well enough..."

Smirking, he could hear the exhaustion in her tone, and he pressed a kiss to her blonde head. "I love you, Joanna Beth..."

Sighing, too tired to object to the name usage, she simply nuzzled her head against him a bit more, muttering, "And I love you, Dean Winchester..."

Sam ended up walking the next morning until he finally saw the Impala parked on the side of the road a few miles away from the motel.

He also ended up seeing more of Dean and Jo than he ever wanted to see in a lifetime. Sure, they may act like kids, but they certainly didn't look like them...