AN: Agent Henrrickson is my favourite kick-ass-in-your-face cop :D


"Let me out of here, you jackass!"

It had been almost four hours since she was arrested.

Jo pressed her face against the iron bars of the small inclosure. It was almost nightfall and she wasn't willing to stay the night at the station.

"Shut up," one of the police moaned at her for the hundredth time.

Jo was fuming. "Is this how you treat everyone who comes in for questioning?"

There was no answer. She kicked the bars.

A police officer with short blond hair and dark eyes hit the bars back at her just as loudly. Jo took her hands away and stood back, watching him warily.

"I told you to shut up," he glared. "You wouldn't have been locked up if you didn't assault an officer, girl."

Jo crossed her arms and saw the officer looking at her.

"What?" she fumed, feeling figity. They had done a frisk search and stripped her of her knife and blade.

The officer just chuckled, jeering to the guys out the front, "hey boys, looks like we got a hot one tonight!"

Jo shook her head, the cop leant on the wall looking at you. "So who you living with?"

Jo had an idea. She doubt Crowley would help her in a situation like this, "call Lisa. Lisa Breaden - she's my... cousin."

The officer chuckled. "Hey, Chuck, see if that's legit."

The door open and Jo heard footsteps. The officer backed away from the bars, immediately business like, "Good evening, sir!"

An FBI agent glanced woefully at the man. "Open it and send her into the room."

"Look, I didn't do anything!" Jo called out.

The FBI agent didn't care. They moved Jo out of the cell and into a smaller room with a table and two chairs. One of the walls was a glass wall. Jo glared at it and sat down.

The FBI agent - a man in his fifties sat down on the other chair.

He looked at the file he had in his hands.

"You know how long I've been in this workforce?" he asked her.

Jo shrugged, her arms crossed over her chest.

"Twenty nine years," he answered for her. "And you know what that means?"

She wasn't bothered.

He looked right at her, unwavering. "It means that I know the difference between the guilty and the innocent and it gives me the power to send who ever I want to jail. For life."

Jo didn't move.

"So, Joanna Beth Harvelle," he went on. "Tell me what you were doing when that building exploded killing all those people? And how you managed to escape."

She frowned. "How did you know that?"

His eyes narrowed. "I know a lot of things about you. And your parents. You see, your father was a marine and your mother looked after a saloon, dealing with creeps like your daddy. I know that you went to university and dropped out because you almost killed a student and I know that the motel room your staying at is covered with infomation about all the victims that had gone missing in the woods around this area. I know a whole lot about you than you would like."

"Then you would know that I didn't do any of that stuff," Jo said.

He leaned in. "Then why are all those people dead - including your mother? Why would you kill your own family?"

"I didn't kill her!" she shouted, breaking. "My mom died to save me! That building was on fire - one of the cans had exploded and she got me out of ther before anything happened!"

He looked at her hard. "So why did you kill her?"

Jo fell back onto the seat, shaking her head. It was no use shouting - it only made her look more crazy. "I didn't kill her, you have to believe me," she pleaded. "I might have not come from the perfect family, but we're not killers. We're anything but that. My dad died when I was in piggy tales but my mum seemed pretty cut up about it. But we never did anything to hurt people. I swear."

"That doesn't go with your criminal record," he said. "Looking at this, credit card theft, breaking and entering, possible accessory of three homicides and destorying the interior of a hotel wall."

She shook her head. "Please, I didn't do it to hurt any body."

"I know," he replied.

Jo was confused. He continued, "see the eyewitnesses to all of it swear that you had saved them. See, and this is where it gets complicated."

Jo looked away nervously. The agent closed her folder. "I'm letting you go."

"What?" she stared at him, confused.

"Even though in a case so serious like this, we have no hard evidence that it was you that did that," he explained. "However, concluding that the eyewitnesses believe you were there and saved their lives - I want you to consider how lucky you are in this instance."

He got up and opened the door for her.

"But this doesn't mean I'm not watching you," he said, eyeing her. "I'm gonna be watching you like a hawk with lazer vision. You won't be able to go anywhere that I won't know about - that I won't hear or see about. You understand?"

Jo nodded. "Of course."

Before the agent could act, the same police officer came down the hall, sheperding Jo to the front of the station. "Some one's here to pick you up," he said, before opening the door for her. "Your lucky, other wise you'd be staying an all nighter here."

Jo didn't care how lucky she was tonight. The officer handed her bag to Jo as she walked into the front room, happily to get out of the station.

But she stopped, because someone was waiting for her, standing up by the door with an unimpressed look on their face.

"So," Dean asked cooly. "Want to explain this in the car?"