AN: A very blessed Merry Christmas to all my lovely readers and fellow writers. May you have the happiest of seasons filled with love, happiness, and peace. A particular set of hugs and kisses to tara hitge for reviewing and following and to KitKatCon for favoriting A Little Thing!

Mistletoe

At first, Dean didn't understand what was so unsettling about seeing the group of hunters together for Bobby's little Christmas gettogether. The 'guest list' consisted of Bobby, Sam, Dean, Ellen, Jo, Rufus, and Ash, so there were no unfamiliar faces. It wasn't the food or drink because Bobby had gotten the crowd favorites of beer and burgers. So what was it?

It wasn't until Sam commented that it was weird seeing Bobby smile that he got what was upsetting him.

It was rare to see a crowd of hunters together without everyone in a panic about killing a monster. The only times he'd been with a group of hunters this big had been when they were hunting the biggest and the baddest. He couldn't sit down and drink his beer because his body wanted to start pacing. He couldn't focus on the poker game because his head kept on trying to bring up the most recent lore he'd researched.

"You, too, huh?"

And then there was the blonde bombshell to deal with. Dean turned, found Jo leaning against the porch railing beside him. He hadn't heard her join him outside.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

She turned to face the party inside. "I can't wrap my head around the fact that my mom is in the same room as Bobby, and it's not because someone's life is on the line."

And it was little comments like that which made his insides get all gummy and gross and Sammy-approved.

When Jo and Ellen first drove up: "Wow, she's wearing a flannel shirt just like I am."

When Jo laughed at his stupid joke about Bobby's kitchen towel: "Gee, she thinks I'm funny even when I'm really not."

When Jo lunged for her second burger before Ash could get to it: "Man, I like a girl who threatens to kill someone because she's hungry."

When Jo said exactly what he was thinking: "Golly, it's like she gets me or something."

Really, it was embarrassing.

Unless…

"You know, it's kinda nice," he said, turning to face her. He stepped a little closer under the pretense of getting comfortable against the porch railing.

"What's nice?"

He shrugged. "The time to just, you know, get to know one another without bullets flying or monsters threatening the universe."

She chuckled, cocked her head. "I'd argue the best way to know someone is on a hunt, when everything is on the line and their true character comes out to play."

"Well- well, yeah." He scratched his head. "But there are some things that aren't possible to find out on a hunt."

"Really?" she asked. "Like what?"

Ah. She was toying with him. She wasn't even trying to hide that cheeky grin of hers. But she hadn't exactly shot him down yet, so…

He shuffled a little bit closer. To his delight, she stayed where she was.

"I don't know. Maybe there are some things you really want to do, but a hunt isn't exactly the right place or the right time to do it."

"And a Christmas party with parental figures right next door is the right place and the right time?"

He shrugged, smirked. "It could be."

He was looking right at her then. He always forgot how short she really was. She had such a confident way about her that she always seemed bigger than her 5'4" height. But standing beside her now, looking down into her brown eyes, he found their height difference natural, as if she might fit perfectly when pressed up against him.

She sighed, her gaze never breaking from his. "I'm getting the feeling this still isn't the right place or time."

He blinked. That wasn't the vibe he'd been getting from her. Still, she didn't seem in a rush to put some space between them, so he stayed where he was, so close her shoulder brushed against his chest every time he breathed.

Her gaze shifted upwards. "But if we just happened to find ourselves under some mistletoe, I would hate to break tradition and walk away without… you know."

He glanced up to find a thin, pitiful looking strand of mistletoe hanging from the beam right above them.

"Well, it is tradition," he said, lowering his gaze once more to find a light blush marring her pale skin. He almost called her out on it, wondering suddenly if all that flirting she always sent his way was just talk, if she wasn't quite as confident in herself as she pretended to be. But when her eyes lowered to his lips, he decided he'd shelf the teasing for later. Right now, he had other priorities.

Why was he nervous all of a sudden? He was Dean Winchester, and Dean Winchester hadn't gotten nervous about kissing a girl since the third grade when Emmaline Martin had dared him to kiss her by the by the old swing set. Emmaline, with her buck teeth and freckles and black pigtails and multicolored overalls. But Jo wasn't Emmaline Martin. She most definitely wasn't Emmaline Martin. So why the nerves?

Thank God his body was acting on pure instinct, because his brain was no help as his head lowered. She craned her neck. He closed his eyes. Their lips met.

It was short, sweet, curious. After a moment, he pulled back and opened his eyes. She was gazing back at him, hesitation in her eyes. Her lips had been soft, pliable. He hadn't been expecting that. Jo'd always seemed the type to fight for dominance.

He touched the small of her back, pressed her closer. Her hands reached for the lapels of his jacket. Between his push and her pull, their bodies melted into each other, and their lips met again. This time, she was stronger, confident. Dean slanted his mouth over hers, wrapped her in his arms. She moaned, pulled him lower.

"Oh, geez!"

They broke apart so fast Dean knew he'd have bruises from ramming against the porch railing.

"Seriously?" Sam gasped as he swayed back and forth as if unable to decide whether to stay outside or run back indoors. "You're going to make out right out in the open for everyone to see? For mothers and brothers to see?"

Jo cleared her throat and ran a hand through her long blonde hair. "I think I'll check in on Mom, see how soon we can eat the pie." She whirled past Sam's slumped figure, pausing only long enough to wag a finger at him and threaten to cut off vital male organs if he said anything to her mother. Judging by Sam's look of resignation and disgust thrown Dean's way, he believed her.

"Really, Dean?" he sighed, standing stiffly at Dean's side. "Jo? Of all the girls you could possibly sleep with, you go with the one whose mother has a shotgun collection and knows how to find us?"

"Hey, I didn't do anything she didn't want," Dean grinned.

"Just be careful," Sam grumbled, "ok? We've got few enough friends who are still – you know – breathing, and I'd appreciate not having to cross the Harvelle women off our list, too, just because you couldn't keep it in your pants."

Dean lounged back against the railing, perfectly content now taking in the view inside Bobby's house. "The heart wants what the heart wants, Sammy."

"The heart- Dean, you don't have a heart. Not when it comes to girls."

Dean tried to debate the point but conceded when no valid counterarguments came to mind. "Yeah, maybe. Could be nice though, don't you think?"

"What? You and Jo?"

"Yeah."

"I don't know. I always thought she was more like a sister to us."

"To you, maybe, but that's because you have no game whatsoever, you nerd."

Sam paused. He looked between the young hunter laughing at whatever comment Ash had just made and his brother watching her with a dopey smile on his usually serious face.

"Huh."

Dean cocked his head but didn't look away from the girl. "What?"

Sam shrugged. "Nothing, just… huh."

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, Dean and Jo together. Maybe they could actually give each other a little bit of hope and light in this dark and dismal world. God knew they both deserved it…

Huh.