Regan McNeill was going to be all right. Though she said that if she saw any of them ever again she'd call the cops.

The three of them salted and burnt the money the next day, and Sam had made sure that neither of his cohorts touched any of it. Even one note could allow the vindictive spirit of Jessica Grey to survive.

Dean had insisted on doing the honours, and when he struck the match, Sam was certain that a pained expression flashed across his face. As the flames leapt higher, Sam dropped the small key into the blaze.

"Goodbye, Jessica." He said, though who he wasn't quite so sure of.

In a matter of minutes, the blaze had burnt down to ash. "That's it, then." Jo said tonelessly. "Time to go home."

Dean raked a hand through his hair. "You could, ah, stay a bit longer." He offered awkwardly.

"A deal's a deal." Jo replied. "Besides, I'm only a little girl who'll get you into trouble."

"Jo-"

"Seriously, you guys are cool, but I don't think I could handle this all the time. Anyway, Mom will be ecstatic to know I'm somewhere where she can keep an eye on me."

"Actually, I was going to ask what it was like being possessed."

"Kind of weird." She raised her eyebrows at his change in subject. "And kind of embarrassing."

"Embarrassing?" Sam asked her as he slipped into the driver's seat.

"Well, how well could you concentrate if someone kept whispering in your ear that Dean's got a cute butt?"

Jo and Sam laughed. "Mock me if you will, but all it means is I've still got it." Dean retorted.

The Bar's lights were blaring as the Impala roared to a stop.

Jo noticed some guy puking in the bushes as she popped the trunk to pull out her bag that had been sitting squashed between Sam's bag and Dean's bag. A sound like someone squeezing a cat issued from inside the Bar, and she had to listen for a bit before she realised it was someone actually singing.

"So. I guess I'll see you around, then."

"I guess so. Hope so." Sam smiled. "Look after yourself, okay?"

"Nothing's a given." She replied, slinging her shotgun over her shoulder. "Come in for drinks. Courtesy of the management."

"Cool. I'll have a beer." Dean said, following her into the bar. "Sam will have one of those pink things with the orange wedge."

"Hey!"

The first thing Jo saw upon entering was her mother bending over the drunk who had been singing, pouring something down his throat. She recognised it as Ellen's sobering-up brew. It consisted of coffee and hot sauce and a few other things. Jo remembered her using it on John Winchester once when she was very small.

It sobered him up quick, but he told Ellen that he couldn't get the taste out of his mouth for a week. "Mom!"

Ellen Harvelle looked up and smiled. "Be with you in a minute."

It took some clever manoeuvring to navigate the bar filled with thugs, drunks and thuggish drunks. Jo finally reached the bar and threw down her bag and weapons behind it. "Dean, a beer. Sam, a-?"

"Gin and tonic." He said quickly, sitting on a stool in front of the bar. Dean threw him a disgusted glance as he did likewise. Jo, looking faintly amused, prepared their drinks.

"One for the road."

"Hey, JoJo, while you're pouring, ya want to grab me another?" A much older man with long, greasy hair hooted out.

"Put it away, Randy, before someone cuts it off."

Dean and Sam glanced at each other and grinned, as there was a roar of laughter behind them. "Gee. I can't imagine why you ran away from all this." Dean commented in an offhand manner.

"You get used to it. This is the sort of place I was raised, remember. No one noticed me until I was about fifteen." She placed Sam's glass in front of him.

"And a blossoming young woman."

Jo laughed as she finished Dean's. "I think I've finally realised that this is probably more dangerous and terrifying than going about on my own. And I'll almost certainly find out more than I possibly could otherwise by being here."

"So. All's well that ends well?"

"You irresponsible hellions. You take my daughter – again – then have the nerve to turn up on my property and drink away my livelihood?" But there was a smile in her voice as she said it.

"Hey, Mom. How's the Singing Budgie?"

"Sober as the day he was ordained."

"He's a priest?"

"Hey, Ellen."

"How are you?"

"Not better, not worse." Ellen said. There was a funny catch to her voice. "And how are you boys coping?"

"Ah, pretty good. Ellen, are you alright?" Sam asked her.

Ellen joined her daughter behind the bar and motioned the boys in closer. "You boys better look after yourselves. Watch each other's backs."

"Sure. Always. Ellen-"

"There was a fed in here not that long ago." She said shortly. "Spooked the crap out of my kids. The guy called himself Hendrickson. Ring a bell?"

"Quite a few, actually." Dean said grimly. "Why did he come here?"

"The man reckoned someone anonymously posted a photo of you kids through his door. He came here because this place was in the background. The car was there too. Licence plate number. He's probably running it as we speak."

"So he knows that we were here."

"He knows an awful lot. I only talked to him for maybe ten minutes and he's as mad as a cut snake. He's not going to stop until he's brought you in."

"Thanks, Ellen." Sam said quietly. In his head he was sizing up where they could get new plates for the car and new fake IDs done. Then he noticed something else unsettling in her steely-eyed glare. "You think there's a mole?" He said quietly.

She lowered her voice even further. "I wouldn't normally say this about people in my bar, but I think we've got ourselves an outside contractor. Someone who's not really associated with hunting perse, and only works with the government when it suits them." Ellen looked around the crowded room. "Only trust yourselves and your closest friends."

"Are you saying we've got a hunter following us?" Dean hissed. "A friggin' bounty hunter?"

She frowned. "And whoever he or she is, they're easily a match for you."

"Do you have any idea who they are?"

"Look around, Sam. Would you expect anyone here not to pull a knife on you if given a reason?"

"Good point." Dean said. "So. Crazy federal agent and a crazy bounty hunter. Man, this gets better all the time."

"We'll pass on anything else we find out." Ellen said. Jo nodded, looking worried. "Lie low for a bit. Keep your noses clean until the investigation cools off again."

"You know we can't do that. We have to follow the cases." Sam said.

"Just like your dad. He got himself into similar trouble when he was about your age. Telling me and Bill his job was more important than his safety." She sighed. "You'll do what you think is best. Winchesters always do. Be good. Stay alive."

"Yes, ma'am." Dean said solemnly.

"It's a good thing you're staying."

"Is it?"

"Yes. If we're caught, you're not going to be an accessory."

"Sam, shut up." She gave him a swift kiss on the cheek. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"Do you know how much of a free rein that gives me?"

"Ooh, college boy thinks he's clever. Don't let Dean rub you up the wrong way."

"As long as he doesn't start humming 'On the Road Again', I'll be fine." He assured her. "Catch you later."

"You bet."

She waved as the Impala pulled away.

"This is the life. You, me, the open road and good music." Dean reached forward to turn on the radio. Bon Jovi came over the speakers. "Heck, no." He reached out to change it.

"Leave it for a bit." Sam said. "I like this one."

"Pansy." Dean left the knobs and turned to the window.

'It's my life,

It's now or never

I ain't gonna live forever

I just want to live while I'm alive

It's my life.'

"Half the money. In advance."

The other man frowned. "You do know I have enough on file to take you in right here."

"Catch me if you can." A laugh from the darkness. "You haven't managed to get Dean Winchester yet, and he's one clumsy son of a bitch when it comes to cleaning up after himself. Besides, who else would do your dirty work for you?"

He didn't say anything.

"And then you'd have to try and explain to your colleagues why you were associating with a known perp anyway. Don't bullshit me. Half the money or I take my services elsewhere."

"Meet me tomorrow at the usual place. I'll have your cash. You better have new information about the Winchesters." He turned to walk away.

"You really have it in for those clowns."

Agent Victor Hendrickson scowled. "You have no idea."

Author's Note & Disclaimer:

The lyrics of It's my Life belong to Bon Jovi and anyone directly associated with the band.

I don't own anything out of Supernatural, including Sam, Dean, Jo and Jess.

The evil Jessica Grey is solely mine. Money seems the driving force behind a lot of the living, why not the dead?

Thanks to all that reviewed and all that read without reviewing. And a big thanks to Fairyofmusic, who has read and reviewed all my Supernatural stories. All feedback is very appreciated and I will get around to returning the favour.

These stories will continue until I either run out of ideas or people tire of reading them.

Next story is Amnesia.

A Winchester is injured during a botched hunt, and several days later wakes up in a strange bed in a strange room. And he can't remember how he got there, why there were assorted weapons in his clothes, and why this 'Sam' keeps calling looking for 'Dean'.

Calling himself John, he meets the girl that had been looking after him during those few days. She says her name is Gabby Rosalini, and she's a hunter. Moreover, she knows he's a hunter as well. John, it seems, has stumbled into the middle of her investigation.

Gabby allows John to stay with her and help with her case until he remembers who he is. But as fragments of memory and a killer's senses begin to emerge, he has to ask himself whether he wants to remember at all.