Dean felt the breath whoosh from his lungs, throat constricting. It wasn't really Jo. Of course it wasn't. This was just his mind playing cruel tricks on him, possibly from lack of sleep, or revenge for the little stunt he just performed. Or, maybe Meg had possessed her body, or something. Yeah, that was possible. Revenge for killing her hell-pups. Whatever the reason, the cute blonde standing in front of him wasn't real.

"Man, Dean," Jo said. "You look like you've been to Hell and back. Again."

"I – Shouldn't that be you?" Dean replied, forcing a weak smile to his lips, trying to inject some of his usual easygoing humour into the conversation. "I mean, what with you being killed a mere twenty four hours. By being a Hellhound's chew toy. Never heard of anyone coming out of that as fresh as a daisy, Jo."

Her lips curved into a smile. "There's a first for everything, right?" She gestured vaguely at her slim body. "It seems I'm the first. Lucky shot, eh?"

She was right. She'd changed into new clothes, sporting a tight-fitted leather jacket, dark skinny jeans and flat-heeled black boots. Her hair fell in freshly-washed curls, glossy and perfect, a striking blonde against the dark colours of her outfit. She was standing with such effortless ease that Dean could tell from just a glance that she wasn't injured. Her fluid movements confirmed that. His observations didn't do anything but puzzle him further.

It was funny, really, how beautiful and kick-ass she looked, but Dean doubted she even noticed. She'd probably chosen the dark colours for camouflage reasons, the tight-fitting clothes so there's nothing to grab hold of (except for her hair – but nothing evil's gonna get even close to grab it; he was sure she had some weapon sheathed in her boots). She merely dressed like that for practicality.

But damn, did she look stunning.

"What happened?" Dean choked out. He didn't understand what was going on. His mind, foggy with fatigue, was desperately trying to fit together all of the puzzle pieces, but failing miserably. There was no easy, logical explanation, at least from where Dean was standing. Was he missing the bigger picture?

"No idea, Dean," Jo said. Her smile slipped as looked down at her feet, toeing the grass with her boot. "One minute I'm led, bleeding to death in a store, next to Mom, and then the whole thing just…dissolved. Like, all these black dots just completely overrode my vision. And then there was this massive white light, and it was so bright, and…then I woke up, in our little motel room. Only, of course, no one was there." Jo smiled wryly, meeting Dean's gaze once again. "You guys really do check out fast, don't you? I was surprised."

"We didn't realise anyone was going to be returning there, seeing as we believed you and Ellen died. Which we had good cause to, seeing as, you know, you guys sacrificed yourself by blowing yourselves up so we could get away without freaking hellhounds tracking us." Dean paused. He took a deep breath, then asked, "Trust me, if we knew you were going to return? We'd have stayed a lot longer. So, where's Ellen?"

Dean knew the answer as soon as their eye contact broke. No….

"I…I don't know. Like I said, I have no idea what happened. I just woke up in the motel room. I don't know where…where Mom is."

Silence followed.

Dean hesitantly stepped toward Jo, gauging her reaction. She stood there, straight, watching the green-eyed man slowly advance, stopping mere inches away. They stood like this for a few moments, not speaking.

"I missed you," Dean whispered finally.

"I wasn't gone for long," Jo chuckled, peering up into his eyes. "How could you have missed me already?"

"When you don't think someone's…coming back, you start to miss them quickly." Especially since you got mauled saving me from a hellhound, thought Dean, but he didn't voice this comment. There was no need to ruin the mood.

Dean couldn't believe this was happening. Two hours ago, he had woken up in a cold sweat, trembling as he realised the deaths of two of his dearest friends were on him. Two members of his very selective group of trusted people.

And now? Now, he was talking to one of them, who looked like she was ready to kick some demon ass. It just didn't make sense.

"I…Is this real?" Dean's voice pitched lower. "Are you real? Am I hallucinating?"

Jo smiled faintly. The slight movement of her mouth drew Dean's attention to her lips. His mind, finally realising there was a seriously cute chick in front of him, contemplated whether her lips were as soft as they looked. He bet they would be, though God forbid the guy who decided he wanted to find out, without making sure Jo was okay with it. He'd be picking rock salt out of his ass for weeks. Dean knew that one of the strongest hunters was stood in front of him, regardless of her gender; she could be as ferocious as a cougar when she wanted to be. She was largely underestimated because she was female, although Jo could often use this as an advantage.

The thought flitted through Dean's mind, quickly followed by the realisation of how close they were standing, and Jo wasn't pushing him back. Of course, she could be fooling around again, like on their last night, but for some reason Dean doubted this. She seemed…more radiant tonight. Almost glowing. What was that look in her eyes? Dean couldn't quite decipher it, but it made his stomach flutter with anticipation. The feeling was peculiar to him.

Jo smiled gently. "You want proof I'm not a hallucination?" she whispered silkily. "I'll give you proof."

She lifted on her tiptoes, meeting her lips with his.

(A/N) Sorry that all of these chapters have so small. They will start getting a little bigger, it's just I've been so busy, and I've been so excited to start my first story, so bear with me, please! Thank you to those who have added me to story/author alert, and to Silverspoon who has given me two really informative and constructive reviews.

I'll update soon!